Hi everyone! This chapter is more of a filler rather than made for the plot of the story, but I figured after a gut-wrenching chapter like the last one, this was in order. Plus, it seemed very realistic to me that they wouldn't just go on with their lives right after losing their son, spies or not. Enjoy!

Previously on Here Comes the Spy

"Can I see him?" I asked, and she pressed the button on her bed that summoned in a nurse. We helped Cammie get into a wheelchair and were guided to the nursery to find our son. As our eyes perused the cradles through the glass, I noticed a puzzled look reach the nurse's face.

"Well that's just strange… He was in bed three just a minute ago." The nurse excused herself to go into the nursery and that was when true terror filled my system. William was nowhere to be found.

Three Months Later

ZACH POV

Three months had passed since I had returned home but William had not. Three months had passed since Cam had last laughed or spoken more than three word sentences. Three months had passed since I had taken a leave of absence from my job. And spies don't take leaves of absence.

Two months had passed since we received our only evidence of William's well-being. Two months had passed since I had seen Cam cry. Two months had passed since I had to have Solomon speak to our boss to convince him to extend my leave.

One month had passed since Cam stopped clutching the baby clothes left behind in little yellow bins in the nursery. One month had passed since Cam agreed to marry me in the City Hall with Bex and Grant as our only witnesses. One month had passed since I had begged for just a little more grievance time and for someone else to take the burden of the disc off of my family's shoulders.

Time seemed to be passing very slowly like this. The sadness seemed to have passed, and yet we were left with a silent emptiness. Our friends would go in shifts to visit us, usually feeling too uncomfortable and making up excuses about why they had to leave earlier than expected.

One night, Cammie and I lay in bed, silently awake. We both lay on our backs, not touching one another, as we often were these days. For the first time in three months, however, I moved from our routine and reached for her hand with my pinky finger. Hesitantly, she latched her pinky through mine.

The next night, we fell asleep with our hands intertwined. The progress we were making was small, but I knew how delicate our lives had been; at the sound of a pin dropping, it all could shatter.

By the end of the week, I managed to stay awake long enough to feel Cammie nuzzle herself into the nook of my body. I breathed in all of her; her hair and the way it smelled a little less like strawberries, her neck and the absence of perfume, the smell on her clothes that always lingered, no matter if you changed the detergent.

That night, I woke up to sporadic vibrations shaking my body. As I adjusted to the dark, I became aware of Cam's violent sobbing. Sitting up, I wrapped her in my arms and let her release all of the emotions that had been curdling within her. We didn't say a word to each other, but I kissed away the tears that streamlined down her cheeks and turned her toward me, laying us both down.

My eyes darting between the both of hers, I waited for a hint of what she was feeling. Her sad eyes returned the message, and she planted a soft, sweet kiss on the skin beside my lips. My hand traveled up her side and across her cheek, stationing itself into the tangles of her honey colored hair. Slowly, I pulled her face closer to mine.

I was only mildly aware of the tears streaming from her eyes onto my face and between our lips as we delicately kissed. She drew her body into mine, grabbing at the back of my night shirt. I allowed her to take it off before reaching my hands under her own. Once it was off and tossed to the ground, she hungrily reached for my lips once again, but I didn't allow her to keep going.

"Cammie, look at me please, love," I whispered. Reluctantly, she looked into my eyes. "I love you and I would never take advantage of you. Now is too painful of a time for us and I shouldn't have roped you into this." She bit her lip and sat up. I followed, sitting next to my wife, hands together. Finally, she turned towards me and grabbed my face in her hands. They seemed smaller than I remembered.

"Zachary, you are my husband. I love you, too, but we need to be here for each other more than just sitting in silence because talking about it hurts. I need you to be my husband and love me like it," she replied.

We made love for the first time in three months that night.

Like I said, very filler-y, but I think it was definitely necessary. Let me know what you think!

Love and Grumbling Tummies,
Abby