Lilia was alone with her thoughts. The room was so silent, and she tried to keep herself from thinking about it, but she couldn't. It was always in the back of her mind, and she was fighting against it, trying to keep it from coming forwards, from having to face it. But she couldn't any longer.

It was all for nothing. She had lost everything, and for nothing. In the blink of an eye, the life within in her had been snuffed out, and for no reason. There was no good reason to explain what had happened to her.

She rocked herself back and forth as question formed in her mind, trying to find some reason to explain what had happened. To explain why. But her pain grew as she remembered how she had woken up an hour earlier, once again expecting to find Nick there. She knew he was in her city. She knew how close he was to her. But he wasn't there, and her secret hope was that he would be there when she woke up. That he would take her into his arms and make the pain stop. But he never was.

She remembered what had happened after she had been shot. About her fight, and the voice that she had stayed for. The recording. Another illusion. He was haunting her. Every time she woke up, she felt like he was there. She could smell him, almost. Always certain that he was there, but he never was. It was like a fresh stab of pain every time she realized that he wasn't there.

And why should he be? Good for him, Lilia. He doesn't care. You don't deserve to have him here, not after the way you treated him, she would shout at herself. And she fell into a deep hole of depression. She wished silently that the darkness had won, that she had accepted it's offer of oblivion. The pain was over whelming her.

"Lilia, you are going to talk to me," Paul declared. She looked at him, stunned to see him there.

"How long have you been there?" she asked.

"Long enough. Lilia, what are you doing to yourself? I have never seen you so down. You have to get past this. Don't dwell on the past, look towards the future. At least talk to me. Let it out," he said.

"Paul, I feel guilty. Because it's dead and I feel relieved. I am relieved because I am no longer burdened with it's existence. I don't have to worry about it anymore. It won't ruin my life any longer. I didn't want it, so now I don't have it. I should be happy. But I'm not," she said, tearfully.

"Of course you wanted it. It was inopportune timing, that's for sure, but you did want that child. You loved it, you did. And after all that happened with you and Nick, you do feel relieved, it's only natural. But that doesn't mean you didn't want it," Paul said.

"It's not fair! I decided what to do. I was going to give it up, give it to someone who really needed a baby. Someone who can't have children and could give it what it needed. Both parents. I had just decided that. And it died."

"Lilia, I'm sorry."

"Do you think that if I had stayed with Nick, it would have been different? Do you think that this would have happened?" she asked desperately.

"Don't play what if. It's not healthy. What happened, happened. You can't change it, and everything happens for a reason. I don't know it, you don't know it. But it happened for a reason," Paul said, taking her hand. She squeezed his hand, and smiled through her tears. He had just reassured her of her greatest worry. That she had lost everything. But as long as she had Paul, and her aunt, and her friends in Premiere, she had something. And it was better than nothing, than oblivion.

* * * *

"You look a lot better, dear. Going home tomorrow, are you?" the nurse asked her.

"Yes. I can't wait. A week in this place is too long for anyone," Lilia commented. Her doctor, assured that there was no infection and that she was healing nicely, decided to release her into the care of her anxious aunt.

"It's too bad that friend of yours had to leave. He's been here everyday for hours and hours, but he always had to leave just before you woke up, which must have been frustrating for him.. He just wouldn't leave. But he said that it was his last day here and he had to go. It's too bad," the nurse commented.

"He had to leave?" she asked, baffled. Paul would have said something, would have said good bye. But he hadn't. He wouldn't just leave her without a word, would he? Her anxiety was growing as the nurse puttered around the room. She left a few minutes later, and Lilia was alone with her worry. But then, five minutes later, Paul walked into the room.

"I thought you had to go?" she asked, pleased to see him.

"No. Why, trying to get rid of me?" he asked, surprised as he sat down. She was alive today, energetic and bright-eyed.

"The nurse just said that you told her that you had to move one with the tour," she explained.

"Nope, Lilia. They gave me a week off."

"What? No, you can't do that. I love you for it, but no Paul. What are they going to do, who is going to play the guitar? Jacki can't, we've tried that already, remember? What are you going to do?" she demanded.

"We've arranged for someone to fill in, don't worry your pretty little head about it. Lilia, I want to be with you. I can't leave you a sicky, alone with Betty. She'll worry you to death, fussing all over you. I remember when you used to get the flu, you'd hide out in my house until it passed, otherwise she'd go all out on you," Paul reminded her.

"So you don't have to leave?" she asked, pleased.

"I don't. But I never said anything to the nurse, at all. Except once in awhile, to see how you were doing. I never told her that I had to leave," he said, to Lilia's bafflement.

"Then who was it?" she asked, looking around the room. Her eyes caught a snow-white object on her night table, and her blood froze as she recognized it. There was only one person on earth that would leave that for her. She began to tremble as she reached out and picked up the fragile object. She twirled it around in her fingers, to make sure it was real. That it was truly there, and not just another illusion.

It was a lily.