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in my direction, he turned, and left the room.

What the actual hell?

Shaking my head, my mouth hanging open, I proceeded to the shower, stumbling over my own feet. As I took off my clothes, I found an involuntary smile on my swollen lips when I looked into the mirror, and I forced it to vacate. This was wrong. This was all wrong.

Hadn't I just made amends with Victor? Granted, he was sick as a dog and probably delusional, but can't a man be honest when he's practically passing out due to fever?

The answer was, probably not. I mean, Linsey thought I was her mother for God's sake.

I sighed heavily, jumping in the shower, and sighing as the warm water beat down on my back. It had felt like ages since I'd actually stepped under a stream of water, and that didn't count the rain.

The kiss flooded my mind yet again, the way his strong arms pulled me firmly against him. His soft lips moved in perfect sync with mine.

I hadn't thought about the time in the bathroom at the skating rink. I'd put it out of my mind as soon as it happened, refusing to believe it. If it was true, could I be in love with Logan? Could I feel more than brotherly friendship for him?

Well, judging by what I felt when he kissed me earlier, that was a definite possibility.

I groaned, shutting off the shower. Jumping out, I dried myself off, and rung out my hair. I dressed myself quickly, resolving that as soon as Victor got better, I'd talk it out with him.

After what he said, I just couldn't find it in myself to trust him as fully as I did before.

I walked into the living room, noticing Victor was watching TV with Linsey, both of them sitting on the couch and sipping their mugs of broth.

"Good morning." I leaned down in front of Linsey, reaching out to press the back of my hand to her forehead. 

"Morning." She mumbled.

"You don't have a fever. Did you take anything this morning?" I asked her.

She shook her head, making me smile. "That's good! You're getting better!" I ruffled her already messy hair gently. "How are you feeling?" I questioned.

"A little weak." She admitted, and I noticed her hands shaking slightly as she lifted her mug.

"Yeah, that's gonna be a problem for a few days. The good news is it looks like last night was the worst of it," I sighed, shifting my gaze to Victor. I got up and perched myself on the edge of the couch beside him.

He watched carefully as I gently pressed the back of my hand to his forehead. "You, however, are hot as a firecracker." I murmured.

He cleared his throat to speak, coughing slightly. "Yeah. Your mother gave me a fever reducer a few minutes ago." He murmured.

I gave a sympathetic smile, brushing the hair from his tired eyes. "Did you get much sleep last night?" I asked.

He nodded, "I slept fine. There were a few times I woke up, other than that I was okay." He assured.

He took my hand in his, squeezing it. I smiled hesitantly, before looking up at the sound of the doorbell.

I got up, patting Linsey's head as I walked over to the door. Harry peeked in from the kitchen, his face covered in syrup. I laughed indulgently at the little boy as I unlocked the door. I swung it open, a bright smile taking over my face.

"Ronnie!" I greeted happily.

"Hey, Jane." He pulled me into a big hug.

"What brings you here so early?" I asked as I let him in.

"Well I got a call from the hospital. Lissa get's out today. I hired a nanny to help her with the kids while she heals, and her brother just arrived from Omaha to help as well. I came to pick them up and take them over." He said.

"Momma's home, Momma's home!" Harry celebrated.

I laughed, picking him up. "Let me get him cleaned up. Mom just gave him pancakes." I told Ronnie.

He nodded, sitting down on the recliner.

I walked into the kitchen, setting Harry on the counter and wetting a paper towel with warm water. I wiped his face down, and he waited patiently for me to finish.

"Do you think Momma lost her superhero powers?" Harry asked me as I cleaned his sticky hands.

Mom paused while drying one of the dishes she was washing.

"No, sweetheart, but for a few days, her powers are gonna be a little weak. I need you to promise me you'll help her out, okay?" I asked seriously.

He nodded, his eyes wide and determined. "I'll help Momma get better, like you helped Linsey." He promised.

I smiled. "That's a great idea, Harry. Are you excited to see your Momma?" I asked.

He nodded frantically. "Uh-huh! I'm gonna draw her 'Get Better' cards and tell her all about the story you told!" He rambled.

I laughed. A few nights ago I'd made up a story for Linsey, about a princess who rode a dragon across the sea to find her prince. Linsey and Harry were enthralled. In fact, I think everyone was enthralled, the whole house sat down to listen.

"Well go on and see Uncle Ronnie." I said, setting him on the ground.

"Okay!"

I turned to watch him go, and noticed Victor standing in the doorway. "What are you doing up?" I asked, walking over.

He gave me a faint smile, his eyes filled with an unidentifiable emotion, and a bit of longing. "I'm not crippled." He chuckled, although his voice was rough with emotion.

I gave him a concerned look. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, it's just...you were born to be a mother, you know that?" He asked.

Pain stabbed at my heart. Pain and longing. Apparently I wasn't born to be a mother.

Victor's eyes turned concerned at the change in my expression. "What's wrong?" He reached up to touch my cheek.

"Jane," Mom interrupted.

I'd forgotten she was here. But I was so grateful she was. "Yeah, Mom?" I asked her.

She pressed her hands on my shoulders, looking sternly into my eyes. "Do you want me to tell him? I know how painful it is for you to talk about." She murmured.

I bit my lip, glancing at Victor. "No...he deserves to hear it from me. I just...need some time." I almost pleaded with her.

"Hear what from you? What are you saying?" Victor asked me.

I bit my lip, and Mom nudged me toward him.

"Mom, don't make me do this." I pleaded softly.

"He deserves to know, Jane." Mom said firmly.

Her eyes stared into mine, and it communicated more than words could. I knew she was right. I sighed heavily, bringing my gaze up to meet an extremely confused Victor's.

"Here, sit down before you collapse." I fretted, leading him over to the table.

"I'll leave you two to talk." Mom murmured.

I waited for a while to speak, after she left, staring down at my hands under the table.

"Jane." I looked up at Victor, staring at me with concern. "What is it you're keeping fro me?"

I bit down on my lip, hard. I knew I couldn't lie. That damn tick would give me away.

"Victor...there's something I never told you. Something about myself that might throw a wrench in our relationship. Now, before you jump to conclusions, I don't have a secret kid, I'm not a transvestite, and I don't have Aids." As I said all this, I stared straight at him.

He smiled in faint amusement, but mostly he just looked worried. "Then what is it?" He asked.

"Well...I can't...Victor I..." Why was this so hard to say?

He waited patiently while I took deep breaths, looking away from him and out the window. "I can't...have children." I whispered.

For a full minute, there was nothing but silence. Before he finally asked, "What...did you say?"

I bit my lip against the tears that threatened to fall, still unable to shift my gaze to his. "I'd rather not repeat it, thank you." I muttered.

"You...you can't have-"

"And I'd rather you didn't repeat it, either." I said sharply, finally meeting his gaze.

He closed his mouth, his intense eyes burning into mine. "When were you planning on telling me?" He asked.

My lip trembled. "I-I don't know."

"Don't you think I would have wanted to know that little bit of information?" He asked me, leaning forward.

"What, was I just supposed to bring it up? 'Oh by the way, just so you know I'm infertile.' Is that what you wanted to hear? I don't know about you, Victor, but I think that's a little bit of an awkward discussion for a first date." I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm to hide the hurt I felt at repeating the cursed words out loud.

"Jane, there were plenty more times that you could have told me!" He hissed, keeping his voice low.

Tears pricked at my eyes, and I looked away from him. "Would it have mattered?" I whispered.

"What?" He asked, sounding confused.

"Maybe I should rephrase. Does it matter?" I questioned.

He leaned back in his chair, his mouth pressing into a thin line. Hurt hit me hard, and I nodded, a tear slipping down my cheek. "I see."

"Jane..." He gave a shaky sigh, hesitating.

"No, you've already said enough, Victor. Of all the times you've understood me, of all the times I trusted you...I thought I could trust you to understand this. Congratulations, you proved me wrong, and you proved one thing right. You never loved me. All I was, was a criminal's daughter. A tool." 

He leaned forward, his face incredulous. "Jane, that's not-"

"Don't you dare deny it, Victor Price. Don't you dare." I stood up, tears streaming down my cheeks. "Don't you think I want a family, Victor? Don't you think I would do anything to get a family of my own? I hate myself every day for what I am - what my body can't do. Think about that. I hate myself." I then turned, and walking into the living room.

Mom stood, her eyes widening at my tear stained cheeks and red eyes. "Oh honey." She rushed over to me, catching me in a warm hug.

"What's wrong with Aunt Jane?" I heard Linsey ask.

"I don't know." Ronnie whispered back.

Mom led me outside, sitting me down beside her on the porch swing. I put my head in my hands, and sobbed softly, taking comfort as she stroked my back. "It's alright, honey. I know it's hard." She whispered.

"Hey, what's going on?" I heard Jean ask.

"Is it alright if I tell her, sweetheart?" Mom asked.

I gave a small nod, unable to lift my hands.

"She and Victor had a fight. She told Victor that she couldn't have children." She explained.

At the mention of my impairment, I began crying harder, burying my face deeper in my hands.

For a moment, Jean was silent, and then when she did speak, she was sitting across from us. "My brother's a jackass." She muttered.

I let out a wet laugh, but it sounded more hysterical. Lifting my head from my hands, I wiped my eyes, thanking Jean as she handed me a tissue.

"I-I thought you h-hated me." I sniffled after a few seconds.

"Honey, I never hated you. I was jealous. My brothers adore you. My mother adores you. I saw what they saw in you the minute I walked into the house. You were beautiful, and kind. I guess bitter jealousy that I couldn't be as happy as you seemed kind of got in the way of getting to know you. The truth is, I admire how strong you are. I admire the way you take charge, and can be yourself all the time. I admire how much you care about a family that you've only known for a few weeks." She took a deep breath, giving me a sorrowful glance.

I was surprised, to say the least. Jean, beautiful, independent, protective Jean is jealous of me? I could only stare at her as I sniffled. "I-I don't think Victor adores me." I hiccuped.

It was the only thing I could come up with at the moment. I couldn't think of anything else to say.

She laughed softly.

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