Sorry for huge delay in update - school gets in the way sometimes!

Wondering what on earth was wrong with Stacey, I decided to go back to what I do best – organizing. I'd get Claudia to talk to Stace later.

"So everyone else is due over here in about half an hour and we'll have a group catch-up session before lunch. Is that ok with everyone?"

Sometimes it pays to be democratic. Shannon and Logan nodded, but didn't show a lot of interest. Shrugging, I got up and headed upstairs. At the top I met James, who had only just got out of bed.

"I need to talk to you," he said, sounding tired and sort of resigned.

"I need to talk to you too," I replied, thinking of what I'd discovered that morning.

"Can I go first?" James asked. "I want to get it over with." Opening the door to our bedroom he added, "Let's go in here. It's more private."

Wondering what on earth he couldn't say to me at the top of the stairs I followed him in.

We stood there looking at each other. He cleared his throat, opened his mouth then closed it silently.

"This morning -" I started.

"Wait." He interrupted. "I need to go first." He went quiet again. I tried to wait patiently.

"See, the thing is…"

"Yes?"

"Well…"

"Come on," I said briskly, hoping he wouldn't see how worried I was. "Out with it."

"I…" Seeing my impatient face he hurried on. "I don't think this is working."

"You don't think what's working?" I asked, my anxiety increasing.

James took a deep breath. "It's not you…really. But I can't do this anymore. I've…I've met…"

"You've met someone else." It's not a question. I know. Suddenly it's all so obvious. The late nights, the business trips, the nights he never bothered coming home at all. How could I not have ever become suspicious before? If there's one thing my father taught me it's that you can't always trust the ones you love.

"Who?" I ask. Flatly. It doesn't matter. I don't really want to know who my husband has chosen over me.

"St -" he starts to say, but I stop him.

"I don't want to know."

"Kristy, I'm so sorry, I didn't do it on purpose, really." He reaches out his hand. I turn away.

"Get out." It is said quietly, but it is enough to make him leave.

Slowly I pull from my pocket this morning's discovery. Two thin red lines stare back at me. I hurl it at the wall. It makes a small thump then falls to the floor.

Shit.

I reach over and pick up the phone, blindly dialing the number of the only person I want to talk to right now.

"Hello, Elizabeth Brewer speaking."

"Mom, it's me."

"Kristy! I didn't expect to hear from you until after this weekend! How's the reunion going?"

I pause. I'm not sure I want to talk about it after all. "I think…" I trail off. Then I take a deep breath and start again.

"I think James has left me." There is silence at the other end. Then Mom says quietly,

"Do you want me to come over?"

"Wait, there's more." I reply. "I'm pregnant."

"Oh Kristy," my mother sighs. I cannot tell if she is disappointed in me or just in how things turned out. I want to tell her it's not my fault but I can't. Maybe it is. Maybe if I had done things differently James wouldn't have done what he did. And if I hadn't come off the pill without telling him…

"Things weren't working too well," I admit. "But I thought we could sort things out. I thought a baby would help, so I stopped taking the pill."

"Oh Kristy," Mom sighs again. This time I know she's disappointed in me. Then she laughs ruefully and adds, "Guess you learnt your relationship skills from your old mother huh?"

I stop. "What?"

This time it is my mother who pauses, weighing up how much to say.

"I thought that…" she begins. "I hoped that David Michael would save my marriage to your father. But your father left anyway. Maybe it gained us a few more months, but…" she trails off.

I sit in shocked silence for a minute or so, then venture "But you always said you didn't know why Dad left..." I stop.

"Are you going to tell your child that it's only around because you thought they would save your marriage?" she asks me. I have to admit I won't.

There's a sudden knocking at the door. I know it's James.

"I don't want to talk to you!" I yell. The door opens undaunted, so I pick up my pillow and hurl it at him. I am surprised when it is Mary Anne who pokes her head into the room and says hesitantly,

"Everyone has arrived now, you should probably come downstairs."