Thinking back, she should have been suspicious. When he told her to forget her clothes, she should have known something was wrong. Why the urgency? Why the need to leave right then, when it would have only taken her half an hour to pack? And now they were on a private jet to God knows where, to do God knows what. Chloe hated to fly. It always made her nauseous. Not to mention the pressure she felt in her ears that made her head feel like it was caving in. But there was no way she was going to let Brady know. She was older now, not the teenager that had depended on him for some much. She could handle this on her own.

Shaking her head, Chloe let the questions dissolve and closed her eyes. She had a mild case of vertigo ever since the plane took off, not to mention the tired ache in her body.

"You okay?" Brady asked showing the first inkling of concern for her since the night before.

"I'm fine," Chloe replied softly, touching her bruised cheek.

Brady didn't like the look she had on her face. Her skin was ashen and her eyes were dark. Knowing she hadn't slept the night before, he hoped it was only fatigue that was making her look so sick. "Does it hurt?" He asked, surprising himself with the tenderness in his voice.

"A little," she told him, smiling softly.

Standing, he stepped over to the mini-bar and dumped some ice onto one of the starched cranberry napkins that were resting on the counter top. Moving back towards her, he placed it against her cheek until she was grasping the cold bundle herself. "That should help," he rasped.

"Thank you," Chloe said, not able to look him in the eye, afraid of what she may find there.

"May I ask you something?" Brady said when he was safely back in his seat.

"You're going to anyway, so why be polite about it?" She countered, still keeping her eyes closed as the ice cooled her cheek and eased the sting of the bruise.

Brady ran a hand through his hair, tugged on it so it stood on end, then sighed frustrated. Chloe was the same. She was still as frustrating and infuriating as ever. More than that, she still got to him like no one else could. "I'm a private investigator, it's my job to ask questions. Polite or not."

"I guess."

"So then, if you knew Philip was using and lying to you about it, why did you stay with him. Why not leave?"

"He's my husband," she said simply.

"He's your husband? That's your answer?" Brady breathed through his nose, trying to reign his temper back in.

"Yeah, it is. Why? What do you want me to say? I don't exactly feel comfortable talking about Philip when I know you're judging me. Underneath that smug smile, you're thinking how foolish I am. Thinking back and remembering what a bitch I was, aren't you? You can judge me all you want Brady, but it won't change the past."

"I'm sorry, that was unfair. I shouldn't have...you're right, it's none of my business."

Taking the ice away from her face, she sat up so she could look at him better. "Brady, I came to you because I trust you, I always have. I know you're concerned even if you won't admit it and I know I've hurt you-"

"Chloe."

"No, hear me out. I know I've done things you don't agree with, but I made choices and whether I regret them now is irrelevant. This is my life and I live it everyday. Right now, all that is important is getting Philip back. Can't we try to be friends? I once mattered to you...if I still mean anything, we can get past this and -if not be the friends we were- at least we can try again. So what'dya say, can we try this?"

"I can't be who I was then," he told her honestly. "But I won't let you down."

"You never have," she told him quietly.

Brady watched Chloe close her eyes. He continued to watch as her breathing evened out and her grip relaxed on the napkin. He stood slowly. Tentatively, he walked toward her. She didn't move. Slowly and quietly, he eased down on one knee and extracted the wet napkin from her hand -the ice long melted- and set it on the ground. He held his breath as he brought his hand to her cheek and smoothed one lean finger against her high cheek bone. Circling the bruise, Chloe let out a low sigh and shifted slightly. Brady pulled back his hand and took in a deep breath.

Somehow Chloe had wound up in a large bed, propped up with pillows. She didn't remember falling asleep or even getting into bed. Beside her on the night stand was a stack of clothing. Sitting up, she changed without even flipping on the light. It was dark out and by the quiet of the room, she figured it was late. Too tired to get out of bed and roam around, she decided she would save the exploration for the morning.