It had been only a few days since Chloe had said "pause" to Beca. It had only been a few nights, a few sunrises, but it felt like an eternity. Saying goodbye that night, although hoping it wasn't really goodbye, had been one of the hardest things she had ever had to do. She could remember it as though she had just now lain down the phone. Remembered the crack in her voice as she tried to keep the tears at bay. The way Beca's voice sounded so hurt but yet, so strong as she promised that everything would be okay.

This silence was so hard. Beca had become her rock. Her pillar. Her light in the darkness. But now, there was just darkness. She really thought she could do this. Push this love aside to focus on her husband and their marriage. Everything she was doing was for her children. That's what she kept telling herself. She needed to remain strong, for the children. She needed to stay, for the children. She needed to push Beca away, for the children.

But what about herself? She could no longer deny the intense and unrelenting pull that Beca had on her heart. Never before had she had such strong, unyielding yearning for another human being. It was as though she had lost a part of her body. As if someone had reached inside and removed a part of her heart. Leaving behind just an empty ache. It was a wonder it was still beating.

But beat it did. For her children. Chloe couldn't, and wouldn't, allow herself to get lost to this sadness, this emptiness. Her children needed her to be present. To be the mom they had always known. She didn't want them to notice anything was different, wrong. But Tom was making that increasingly difficult. All he seemed to want to do was wallow. Wallow in his self-pity, massage his ego, lick his wounds.

Now Chloe was not heartless. Not at all. She hated that she had hurt her husband. Hated that he was in any pain. But what she couldn't understand was his inability to focus on the children. Their needs. He didn't seem to care about the fact that his wallowing was not going completely unnoticed. Did he have a right to feel? Yes. Did he have a right to hurt? Of course. But there is a time and place for everything and in front of the children was not that.

One of the hardest parts in trying to understand "where to from here" was Tom's fluctuating moods and reactions. One minute he was acting as though nothing was wrong, going out of his way to try and win back her love, "be the man she needs". And the next minute he was a whirlwind of anger, accusations and spouting his need for separation. It was as though she was on a tilt-a-whirl with no end in site.

Every day, every part of the day for that matter, was its own battle. Never knowing from one minute to the next which of her husband's emotions she was going to face was beginning to take its toll. But no sooner would she think this then the guilt would set in. It would snake its way right inside of her chest and sink in her gut, whispering all of the horrible things guilt likes to pile on.

She did this. This was her fault. She deserves whatever he's saying. All the accusations. The anger. She was the one who caused all this pain for so many people. Upending lives. But just when she felt the guilt was moments away from taking complete control over her, she would hear this soft voice coming from somewhere within. Faint, distant, but there.

It would tell her she wasn't causing everyone pain. That there were only a few who were hurting, her among them. It would tell her that the kids were okay, that everyone loved her and supported her. Let her know that of the three people in this triangle, she was being built up and supported by one of them. She would hear again all the promises to wait, of wanting to wait. Of being there no matter the outcome. And the voice would grow louder.

Reminding her that she wasn't the only one at fault in her unhappy marriage. That although she may not have chosen the best path to discovery, that neither party was without fault for their marital discontentment. It would recite all of the words of encouragement and strength that had brought her to the place of enlightenment where she had found love and acceptance, reassurance and safety. The voice would wrap around her heart and start it pumping once more.

She could do this. She could make it through whatever happened. Whatever came next. She was strong enough. Beca had helped her find that strength. Beca was that strength. Though Beca would tell her that the strength and been within her the whole time. She smiled at the thought, imagining exactly what the younger girl's voice would sound like when she said it. The way "baby girl" rolled off her tongue, past soft lips and straight into Chloe's soul.

Yes, she'd recognize that voice anywhere. And if she closed her eyes and really listened, she would know that it was the same voice that was inside of her whispering encouragement. Telling her it was all going to be okay. Somehow, everyone and everything would be okay in the end. And she believed it. She believed that in the end, all really would be okay. Even if she didn't know how or what the end looked like, didn't know what that last page said, she was strong enough to make it.