God she's beautiful. She's kind, she's gentle. She's funny, she's challenging. She brightens my days, brings levity to my life. She's perfect, I can't imagine a better mother for my child. She's incredible, she's too good for me, she's sweet and so innocent.

She's suggesting we go skinny dipping.

She's surprising. Teasing. She makes me forget the pain, forget what a disaster my life is. I hear myself agreeing, challenging her. She won't do it. I wrap my arms around her, melting my mouth to hers. Flames rage inside of me. She's so soft, so strong. She's pliant in my arms, wrapping herself around me. Her hands are rubbing my back, burying themselves in my hair. Finally I drag myself up for air. I wink at her, grabbing her hands in mine.

"Let's go, then." I smirk at her, pulling her deeper into the water. Our eyes are locked. She's smiling, and she follows me. She unfastens her bra, throwing it towards the stairs. She has this playful, aroused look on her face. I can't back down now. For the first time in weeks, months, years, maybe for the first time in my life, everything feels perfect. There's no crazy ex wife, no murder in my hotel, no hotel at all, even, beyond this pool. No father disappointed, no mother who would take a pay day over her own child. There's only her, and her smooth skin, and her sparkling eyes, and her smile. I launch my boxers onto our pile of discarded clothing. I'm challenging her, like she challenges me.

Not at all like she challenges me. She challenges me to be better, to be more than I ever thought I could be. She challenges me to live, to be vulnerable, to reach for the stars. What do I do to challenge her? Skinny dipping? It hardly compares with how she pushes me to be better-

And suddenly her panties are gone. I can't think of anything beyond my raging lust for this woman. My woman. I love her, I need her, I have to possess her. I can imagine her head thrown back in ecstasy, and I want it. More than my own pleasure, I want to see her in the throes of passion with me. I reach for her as she reaches for me, and her soft lips are on mine, my hands are on her back, and her legs wrap around me. My breath is ragged with my need.

"Let's do it. Let's have sex. I want to do it." She says. I look at her, her resolve, her passion.

"Okay." I hear myself say.

My tongue is in her mouth, her nipples are hard and pushed against my chest. Her belly is a firm mound against mine. She wants me. She wants to give herself to me. I want her. I need her. I have to feel her. I cup her glorious bottom in my hands, and she shivers in my arms. Her eyes are closed tight.

This must be scary for her.

The thought flashes unbidden through my mind. She's never even touched a man, and now she's ready to make love? This isn't right. It's too fast. I've already messed things up going too fast before. But she wants this. She's wiggling against me, panting with need. Her hands are slowly creeping down my back. They're cautiously bold, holding back. She's nervous. But isn't that natural, for a virgin? I lift her a little higher, granting me access to her beautiful breasts. Her eyes open for a second then close again. I run my stubbled chin down from hers, all the way to her stomach, just above her bump. I nuzzle her bosom, inhale her scent. Her eyes are still closed. I trail kisses back up to her mouth.

"We shouldn't do this." I breathe against her lips.

"We can. I want to. Now or later, does it really matter?"

No, it doesn't. I love her. I want to marry her. We're having a baby, we're going to be a family until the end, no matter what. We can do this now. I can make it good for her. I need her, after this week, this year, this life I've led. I need her unconditional love, her acceptance, her innocence. My mouth returns to hers, so soft and warm. My hands slide to her waist, lower, rubbing her thighs. She moans into my mouth, grabbing my rear end. "Please, Rafael. Now! I need you. I need you so much." Her voice is husky, thick with desire. I slowly lower her. My manhood brushes against the juncture of her thighs. She trembles in my arms. Now or later, it doesn't matter.

Of course it matters. Everything important to her matters to me. She matters to me. I love her. Her hand reaches down my stomach, and I realize what she's grabbing for. I want this so badly. I feel like I'm 15 again I want this so badly. But I'm not 15, and Jane deserves better. All I can give her and more. I gently catch her hands in mine, and bring them to my lips.

"No. This isn't right. I want-I need your first time to be special. You've waited so long. You deserve better than a hotel pool."

"But I don't want better. I need you, here, now." Her eyes are smouldering. She's so stubborn.

"If we do this now, it won't be because we love each other. It will be because we're both scared, and worried, and hurting. I can't lift you up now, I can only drag you into the darkness with me. You'll regret this, I know you will. And despite knowing this, I still desperately want to make love to you. Please don't let me." She's looking at me, with that gaze that looks right through me. Into my soul. The spell is broken.

"O-Okay." She says, untangling herself from me. She keeps her eyes downcast as she walks back to the side of the pool, keeping her back to me as she shimmies into her dress. "I'll... I'll go home. See you tomorrow." She mumbles as she shoves her panties and bra into her bag. Then she skitters away.

"Bye." I say softly to the night.

I've disappointed her again. My life is a mess. I can't offer her anything right now. But the faster I fix my mistakes, the faster I heal myself and my hotel, the faster I can offer her everything. The faster I can make my family official. I pick up my phone.

"Dr Stanbrook. This is Rafael. I need another appointment. Tomorrow. Thank you."

I wake up the next morning restless. My bed is too big. I think about the glorious mornings when I got to wake up with Jane next to me, watch her sleep, watch her little smile as she stretched out and looked over at me adoringly. I think about Jane waking up in her bed, surrounded by her family and their knick knacks in their tiny house. Alba's probably making breakfast. It's a stark contrast to my own reality. I'll order some food-Maybe grapefruit with egg whites and coffee. There will be no warm conversation, no delicious smells wafting through the penthouse. I'll go to work and fight with my crazy ex wife. Jane will come here and work with people who love her. For me. Our worlds are so different. But my happiness leaves when she does. I don't know if she'll be happy in my world. I know she wasn't.

Discussing this with my therapist is the emotional equivalent of being run over by a truck. It leaves me with a lot of thinking to do but no solid answers. She suggests that I might just need time to recover, that I'm burning my emotional candle in a fireplace and need to slow down and let myself heal. To work on one issue at a time until I feel capable of being the boyfriend and father that Jane and the baby deserves. When she asks if I'd like another appointment, I say yes. I want to schedule two a week until I can pull myself out of this darkness. Dr Stanbrook says that I don't have to pull myself out, that the people I love will help me if I let them. I try to explain that I can't ask them for help, because that's who I'm trying to be better for, but she shakes her head and says we'll talk about that next session.

For two days I wallow in my own thoughts, trying to figure something out. I see Jane once or twice a day from across the room, in the halls, serving. I have such a visceral reaction to her. Joy and guilt mix together and my stomach clenches. I want her. I love her. She might not be happy. We could ruin our friendship and mess up our kid. I've never been so out of my depth. It feels a little better to repeat the story to my sister during her surprise stop at home. For all that she's eccentric, she gets me. It's almost cathartic, until she points out what an ass I'm being.

"Look. You think you need to fix the hotel for her. You think you messed up in the pool. You think you're empty emotionally. But she's never cared about the money, and you're clearly hurting so you're not as 'empty' as you think you are. She's not your mother, you know. You can't hold your own kangaroo court and decide that she won't be happy with you. You've never wanted to be Dad, so why are you martyring yourself in his image? You've cast yourself as him and Jane as your mom in your head, and you have no reason to. You need more faith in your relationship, and better communication. Even if you both decide to just co parent, you're going to need to communicate."

Of course she's right. I need to come clean. I text Jane.

I need to see you. We need to talk.

I thank my sister, and she looks at me, tilting her head. "You know," She starts again. "We used to be really close. I miss how close we used to be. I wish you'd talk to me more like this. Open. Not business related. I know you think you're an island in the sea, standing alone and strong, but you're not. You have so many people who love you. Let us help."

I bury my head in my hands. "I just don't want to drag anyone down with me. I just want to pull myself up and fix my life."

Luisa smiled at me. "Well, do you know what I think? I think you're hurting us more by keeping us at arm's length and out of your head than you would if you opened up and told us what was wrong. That's what I think."

Jane texted back. Hey, is everything okay? I can come over now.

Yes, I just want to talk. I've missed you.

Turning to my sister, I gave her a fairly uncharacteristic hug. "Thank you, Luisa. I can't imagine how bad I would have messed this up without you."

She smiled at me. "Of course! I'm here to help. Always. Just like family should be!"

I headed upstairs to the penthouse, thinking about Jane. Part of me wants to put up a front, like I did during the amniocentesis. Bring her flowers, pretend her concerns are my only concerns. But that would be a lie, and I won't lie to her. I'm too tired, to emotionally drained to even try. Just this once, I need her to hold me up. I can take care of her the rest of our lives, but right now I'm weak.

I have five or ten more minutes until Jane shows up. I consider pouring myself a drink, but decide against it. Instead I find a pair of pajama pants I rarely wear, and a soft cotton tee. Just as I'm finishing, I hear Jane let herself in. When she sees me, she looks surprised.

"Wow. I don't think I've ever seen you so casual." Something inside me finally lets go. I let go of my pride, my vanity, my hubris. I walk over to her, and wrap her tightly in my arms. I inhale her hair, rub my hand on her back. I should have never doubted her, doubted us. She's so strong, so solid. Together we make our way to the couch.

"I love you. And I've missed you. But I need to say a lot of things, and I need you to not interrupt."

"Okay." She says, seeing my serious face. She looks nervous.

"I'm in Hell right now. I went through a nightmarish divorce, I can't seem to get rid of my crazy, manipulative ex wife, my father who thought I was a complete disappointment was murdered by my step mother who got me to institutionalize my sister, my hotel is failing, and I can't lose it because it's the only thing I can do that I know would have made my father proud, and just to put some icing on the cake my mother sold me for ten million dollars, then moved on with her life and had a new family three hours away. Jane, I love you more than life itself. I still want to marry you, no woman has ever made me feel like you do. But right now, I can't do it. I need help. I need to put a pin in our relationship until I come to cope with all this other stuff in my life. I need a break. I phrased it badly last time, but I meant it. I don't want to break up, I just need to pause this until I can get things in my life settled."

A thousand emotions flitted over Jane's face. Hurt. Pain. Sadness. Outrage. Thoughtfulness. Acceptance. Finally, she nodded. "Okay. What's the game plan to get better? What are our parameters for now? Will I see you at all? There needs to be an end date." My Jane, my beautiful, practical planner.

Gently I kissed her. "Thank you for understanding. I'm seeing Dr Stanbrook twice a week. I'd like you to sit in with us. Not couple's counseling, just so you know what's going on in my head. For parameters, I'll absolutely be at every baby related doctor's appointment. I'll try to make it to the birthing classes, but I can't make any promises. I can't make you any promises of further attention right now, I'm barely holding it together myself. I know it's not fair for me to put you and the baby in this position, and I promise you this will be the only time I ever put our family second, but I need to deal with this emotional turmoil now, and get the hotel stable, so when our baby gets here I can enjoy him or her and take as much time off as I can get away with." I look into her eyes. She nods with resolve.

"Rafael, you're incredible. I wish you would let me help you more, but if this is what you need from me I can do it. And I promise to love you no matter what happens in the next few months. We can handle this together. You've done such an amazing job supporting me emotionally, and I'm just now realizing how much time you spend keeping me happy and accommodating me. I should have done more to check on you emotionally. The parameters are all fine for me. I would like to add a lunch or dinner meeting once a week to discuss adjusting the parameters as you get better. I promise I won't pressure you or add any stress to your life until I go into labor. Then all bets are off!"

I kiss her again. Finally, for what feels like the first time in days, I smile. I even laugh. We're going to be okay. We're going to get through this. I pull Jane tighter to me, and think about how lucky I am to have such an incredible family.

This is my first fic in the JtV fandom! I would love to hear what you guys think, PARTICULARLY your criticisms! I've been writing fanfiction for almost half my life. I can definitely handle bad reviews!

Yours,

K