And this is the last sample, I believe. :) I'm gonna try to work on some other stories tonight. If you want me to try to work on something specific, just leave a comment. :)

Enjoy!

Jerome buried his face in the crook of her neck and breathed in the intoxicating vanilla aroma.

"Jerome, I have to go; my plane's going to be leaving soon." Mara said softly into his shoulder.

He nodded slightly and pecked the base of her neck gently. He pulled back and let his blue eyes roam over her flawless features, blowing out a breath of amazement. She looked up at him with watering eyes.

"You know why I'm doing this." She spoke again, and she continued as if to refresh his memory. "I don't want us to get into a fight or something to go terribly wrong while we're on opposite sides of the world. It could ruin everything, and I don't want to lose you. So if that means letting you go, then so be it."

Jerome felt a smile pull at the corners of his lips as he watched her. She was taking charge; she was being the leader that he always believed her to be. "Someday?"

Mara smiled up at him and cupped his face in her hands. "If it's meant to happen again, it will." She whispered and pulled him down to press their lips together in a short kiss.

"I love you." He murmured against her lips.

"I love you, too."

He didn't move away from her as he broke the kiss, he simply wrapped his arms tighter around her waist and brushed his nose against hers. "Your plane is going to leave soon." He reminded half-heartedly. He was silently pleading with her to stay; to never leave his side, but she stood up from the bench outside the airport and grabbed the handle of her carry-on.

"Don't forget me." she warned teasingly, but a tear escaped her brown eyes.

"I'll never stop thinking about you, Mara Jaffray." He promised, and without another word, she ran off; so it wouldn't hurt more than it already did.

13 years later…

"I'm just done." She spat, stomping down the steps of the two story house.

"Quiet; you'll wake the kids." Jerome hissed, following her quickly. She marched into the kitchen grabbed a suitcase from the laundry room that she had already packed.

"When did you pack that?" he demanded, pointing to the bag.

Kathrin Clarke ran a hand through her blonde hair and huffed. "A week after Matthew was born."

"I knew it." he muttered. "You are cheating on me."

"It won't be considered that in a couple of weeks. We're through. I'm done with these kids. You and I both know that the only reason we ever got married was because my mother didn't want our child to be born out of wedlock."

As she made her way past him, he grabbed her elbow.

"Kate, you can't leave me. You can't leave the kids."

"You'll be fine, Jerome."

"Kate—"

"My name is Kathrin, stop calling me Kate."

Jerome took a deep breath and looked away from his wife, but he didn't loosen his hold on her arm so she stood there watching him for a moment before speaking again,

"You and I both know that I am not the right woman to be taking care of these children. I may have given birth to them, but I cannot be their mother. You and I never had love; even if we wanted to at some point. I kept trying to leave, but you just wouldn't let me. You always brought the kids into it, and then my mother. I'm going to leave now before something stands in my way again."

"I can't take care of them alone. Not to mention that I have a toddler and an infant up there."

"You'll find a way to make everything better. You always do."

"What am I supposed to tell them when they come downstairs in the morning and their mother's not there making them breakfast? What am I to do then?" he questioned.

She jerked out of his grasp and hurried to the front door.

"Kate—"

"Kathrin," she snapped. "Here," she slapped an envelope into the palm of his hand. "You have full custody. They are your kids and your kids alone."

Her green eyes flitted above him and he looked up at the balcony that overlooked the foyer. His two oldest Michael and Alice stood there, watching the argument their parents were engaged in. He locked eyes with both of them. As the front door slammed shut, his eyes darted to the floor, guilt weighing on his shoulders; and the family photo that hung on the wall fell to the floor with a smash, glass littering the floor.

Silently, he hurried to clean up the mess, and then he climbed the stairs and motioned for Michael and Alice to follow him to his room. The three of them sat on his bed, legs crossed, and he tossed the custody papers onto his nightstand.

"We'll help, daddy." Alice whispered reassuringly. The blue eyes that matched her father's glittered with unshed tears after watching her mother walk out on her dad.

"I know you will, sweetheart." He gave one of her blonde pigtails a gentle tug.

"What's gonna happen now, dad?" Michael wondered.

Jerome looked down and blew out a slow, tired breath. "I don't know. I'm tired. I'll talk to you guys about this in the morning."

"Do you want us to tell the others?" Alice asked.

"No, I need to do that." He told them.

His daughter nodded and got off the bed. She tightly hugged Jerome and he placed a kiss on her forehead. He gave Michael a hug as well, and right before the siblings could leave the room, he spoke again,

"But you guys have to remember: I'll never let anything happen to you."

"We know, dad." Michael nodded.

Review?

"Well, I'm tired of pretending, but I'm terrified of it ending. I know if not for you, there's nothing I could do to ever let it end. And I know you feel the same way, 'cause you told me drunk on your birthday. And as you pull to me, you whispered in my ear, 'Don't ever let it end.'" -Don't Ever Let It End, Nickelback

-Rachel