Chapter 4

It was snowing again, and Ressler stood at his living room window watching the white flakes swirling in the street lights. Snow had always invoked peace in him, with its ability to cover up all the grime and filth of the city by replacing it with a tranquil white blanket. Even the sounds of the city became muffled under that canopy. That was before though. Now, snow held a different meaning. It now brought back memories of facing Jonica, standing knee deep in the white stuff, and of pain and heartbreak in a bleak white landscape that he had finally broken under.

It had snowed early on the morning Audrey had died, and now it was snowing again just hours after her funeral. Her casket had looked ... beautiful ... in the snow as he'd said goodbye to her. While unconfirmed, somehow he just knew that she had been pregnant. Standing at her casket... their casket ... had been hard, yet it had also given some small amount of closure. He finally felt it wouldn't betray her memory to move on and face the world again.

He'd lost her once before when the engagement came to an end. He had pushed through that, with his walls perfectly in place around him and turned to work for solace. This was vastly different though. He'd go back to work tomorrow, sure, but he'd likely have a harder time keeping the walls so intact this time.

After Keen had dropped him off at his apartment following the funeral, he'd felt empty. It was the first time since Audrey's death that it truly came to him that he was alone again. He'd been so grieved by her death that he hadn't really thought of the days ahead. The coming weeks, months and years without her. Years in which he might have watched his child grow. He'd told Keen the story he'd related when undercover as the courier was just something he made up for his cover. She saw right through that. Of course it was true. And here he was again, and all he had left in this world was his job.

He'd poured himself a shot of whiskey within minutes of arriving home. He had wanted the whiskey to mask his thoughts, to try and keep his mind off everything - but it was failing miserably. He'd lost count of how many drinks he had consumed now, but knew he wasn't drunk. Or not drunk enough. He was still lucid enough to realize that this wasn't the answer. But he poured another shot just for good measure, before there was a knock on his door.

He ignored it. He really didn't feel like company right now. He continued to look out the window, but there came another knock. If there was one thing that irritated Ressler, it was an unanswered phone or door. So much for ignoring it. He was already considering opening the door when he heard Keen's voice on the other side.

"Ressler... ?

He sighed, put down his shot glass, and went and opened the door for her.

"Hey, I know it's late, sorry." She said apologetically.

"It's fine, come on in." He replied, and stepped aside to let her in. The first thing she noticed on entering the living room was a barely touched meal on the coffee table, a bottle of whiskey and an empty glass.

"Are you okay?" she asked, turning to look at him as he came in the living room behind her.

"I'm fine." He said quietly, lying through his teeth.

She looked at him, knowing he wasn't okay but didn't push the point. She then turned away and looked out the window, right where Ressler had been standing moments ago. It occurred to Ressler that it was odd that they both did that. He watched her gazing outside, wondering why she was here, when she suddenly dropped her head and held a fist to her mouth, gasping.

"Liz... ?" he walked over to her, looking down at her with concern.

"Liz, what's wrong?" he asked, as tears spilled down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come, not when you're ... when you have enough on your plate right now..." She stammered, turning to leave.

He reached out and held her arm, preventing her from leaving, and instead led her to the couch and sat her down.

"Talk to me. What's going on?" he asked, sitting down beside her. She was shaking her head as the tears continued to fall. She looked at him then, biting her bottom lip.

"I think Tom is having an affair." And with her fears finally spoken out loud, she crumbled and hid her face in her hands. He briefly hesitated, before he gently put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him as she cried.

He wanted to ask how and why she thought that. Actually, he wanted to go and beat the guy up if he'd done this to her. But he didn't ask anything, letting her offer the information. Instead he just held her, being there for her as she'd been there for him these past few days.

"I'm sorry Liz..." he said gently to her, putting his chin on her hair as he held her close to his chest.

"I found a text on his phone..." she started to explain. "It was from a woman with the screen name 'teacherspet' saying she wanted to see him again after ... after what had happened at the teachers conference."

He looked up, grinding his teeth together as he held her close. That son of a...

"And it's not just that. He's been distant, going out in the evenings, and not coming back at all some nights ... And when he's home all we do is fight. I think my marriage is over." And with that she buried her face in his chest and sobbed as he held her tight in both arms now.

He gently rubbed her back as she cried, wanting to help in some small way. He'd been so filled with his own pain he hadn't even noticed that she had to have been hurting with all this unfolding with Tom. What a great pair we make. Both our lives are falling apart.