Notes & Disclaimers: Anything you recognize as familiar belongs to Janet Evanovich. I am just borrowing her characters for fun and am not making anything from the story.

Thanks to all of you that have reviewed and let me know that you've enjoyed the story. Thanks also to everyone that's stuck with me through this story to see the end. Your reviews have meant a lot and helped me find the encouragement to continue with this fanfic.

Previously:

"Yes! Yes, I'll marry you. I can't believe you are asking! I never thought…we'd ever…you just…Oh God! Yes!"

I threw myself into Carlos' arms as he pulled me into a deep kiss while he slipped the beautiful ring on my left hand. Later, I'd look at it and realize how beautiful it was, and how it sat on my finger as if it'd always belonged there. Later, I'd let my mind wonder how long he'd had the ring and how he could have kept it from me for so long. Later, I'd realize that also in the box were matching wedding bands for both of us so that we could get married as soon as we wanted to. Later, I'd come to learn that it was indeed a custom piece that'd he'd designed and drawn himself, and had made to his specifications. But right now, I was going to make love to my fiancée. Wow, my fiancée. Yea, I'd do all that other stuff…later, much later.

One Year Later…

"Carlos, have you seen my black heels with the silver buckle?" I yelled from the walk in closet that I shared with my husband. I was currently on all fours looking through the pile of shoes that were scattered across the floor of the closet. How can one lose a pair of shoes in a one bedroom apartment? I swear I just wore them yesterday.

"Babe, looking for these?" I turned around and looked up to find my handsome lover standing in the doorway with my black heels hanging from his fingertip. A half smile was on his lips as he took in my appearance. I was trying to get dressed but thus far had only managed to put on my black lace bra and matching lace underwear. The black skirt, matching jacket, and blue silk shirt that I planned to wear was currently hanging on the closet door, waiting for me to find the missing in action shoes aforementioned.

"Thanks Carlos." I stood and kissed him languidly on the lips as I took my shoes from his hands. His arms came around me and pulled me to him as the kiss deepened. "Carlos, we're going to be late if we don't hurry."

"Babe, I'm dressed. You're the one standing in the closet with next to nothing on. You know that you're asking to get burnt by walking around like that. I'm only a man after all. You're giving me ideas."

"Technically, I wasn't walking around, I was on my hands and knees looking for my shoes. Where did you find them?"

"In the foyer, Babe. Remember last night? They were the first thing to go when we came home from dinner."

I smiled and hugged him to me as I thought about last night. We'd barely made it home before we were tugging each others' clothes off. I'm sure that whoever was on monitor duty last night got an eye full as we tried to get the door to our apartment open and make our way to the bedroom, where we planned on celebrating even more. It kind of reminded me of our honeymoon in the Caribbean. After Carlos' proposal, we left the next day to elope to Antigua. The wedding was all that we wanted; private, intimate, and spiritual. We were married by a minister on a sandy beach with water (that Carlos swore was the color of my eyes) lapping at our bare feet. It was perfect. The minister took a few pictures for us to share with our family and friends once we returned home. The honeymoon was the best part, of course, and sometimes I still shiver as I think back to the two weeks we spent in the islands. Carlos did not disappoint!

We'd had dinner at Rossini's last night to celebrate the opening of the Trenton Women's Center. The past year seemed to have flown by as we prepared for its' opening, but everything was finally ready. It had been a year of hard work, sweat, and tears but today was the grand opening, and I was excited beyond belief. It was nice to share the evening with those closest to us that had helped with their time over the past year. Most of the Merry Men had volunteered in one way or another, along with Connie, Lula, Mary Lou, and Ella. They were all there for dinner along with my parents and grandma. Daddy had been a source of constant encouragement over the past year, and Grandma had continued to be one of my most fierce supporters. After the fiasco with my mother, the relationship with her seemed beyond repair. We would probably never have a genuine mother-daughter relationship; too much water had passed under that bridge. But I did love my mother, and I couldn't hate her just because of her ignorance. She grew up in the Burg, and was Burg through and through. Thankfully, I'd learned to live my life for myself and disregard the silly notions and expectations that came along with Burg life. During a visit at Haywood from my grandma, she reminded me that living that way took guts, strength, and character.

It was during one of grandma's first visits that my mother showed up. Carlos was livid and was ready to have her removed from the premises, but she assured him that she wasn't there to cause trouble. I agreed to talk with her, and she apologized to me for the way she treated me after the attack. She told me that she went to visit Joe in jail just before his sentencing hearing, and that he told her the truth. He explained how he had gotten drunk and that he was guilty. He also explained that he was willing to do jail time because he knew what he had done was wrong. Mom said that Joe felt like he was getting off too easy, and would forever be indebted to me for the plea deal he was given. Once his time was served, he planned on relocating to a different area to begin putting his life back together. Mom let it slip that Joe also suggested that she seriously take a hard look at herself if she was willing to believe a rapist over her own daughter. As we talked she told me that she was getting counseling herself for her own inadequacy issues and would forever regret the way she treated me.

After my recovery, and after deciding that I wasn't comfortable doing distractions and BEA work anymore, I'd struggled with what I'd like to do with my time. Although he assured me I was wrong, part of me felt like I was disappointing Carlos by not returning to distraction and BEA work. And, if I'm honest, a part of me was disappointed in myself. I'd always prided myself on picking myself up and persevering, despite whatever punches life threw at me. Lord knows I'd had enough destroyed cars and clothes to prove that point. But as hard as I tried, I just couldn't bring myself to continue doing that work.

Believe it or not, I actually tried-once-but it ended in disaster. Lula called me shortly after our return from our honeymoon and asked if I'd like to do a ride along to pick up Henry Stipinksi. We'd picked Henry up before, and he usually came along easy enough. Seems he had a fondness for tequila, but it didn't seem to agree with him. For some reason, whenever Henry had been drinking tequila, it reacted on him by making his clothes come off. Therefore he had been arrested for public drunkenness and indecent exposure. Carlos tried to talk me out of going by saying that it was still a little too soon for me to be picking up FTA's, but I assured him that Lula and I could handle it. Thankfully, and unbeknownst to me, Carlos and Tank decided to follow us.

We arrived at Henry's apartment and all went well until, as we were leaving, Lula was assisting him down the steps of his apartment to the car and he tripped. Lula mistook his tripping for him being "difficult" and tasered him. Henry fell forward and knocked me to the ground, knocking the breath out of me, and landing on top of me.

Looking back now I'm sure it was a funny sight. Lula standing in her Via Spigas while wearing pink spandex and holding a taser, Henry sprawled out on top of me on the ground, and me- well I was just lying there trying to breathe. But as I tried to take a breath I felt very out of control. I couldn't move and I couldn't get Henry off of me. My mind frantically tried to process everything, but somehow I kept feeling like I was back in my apartment the night Joe attacked me. When I could finally breathe I heard screaming, and then realized that it was me. I was desperately trying to get and unconscious Henry off me when Carlos shoved him over and pulled me to his chest. He sat there on the ground in front of Henry's apartment, rocking me and whispering words in Spanish to me as I got control of myself. When I finally could speak I turned to Carlos and whispered, "I don't want to do this anymore. Please, just…I can't do this anymore, Carlos. Take me home, please!"

Carlos wiped my tears and picked me up without saying a word. He gently put me in the SUV and took me home. We crawled into bed and stayed there the rest of the day while he held me and spoke words of love to me. He didn't judge me for what happened. And he didn't tell me 'I told you so'. He simply gave me the support that I needed. He reminded me that recovery was like a roller coaster. There would be good days and bad days. And he reminded me that a minor setback didn't mean I wasn't continuing forward in my healing, it just meant that I needed to take time to reevaluate and give myself time to heal.

It was shortly after this, while I was working on some searches in the office, that I realized I'd like to do something to make a difference. I was running a search on an FTA for Carlos and realized that the person in question had been arrested numerous times for domestic abuse, but was never convicted. His neighbors had reported domestic disturbances several times over the past few months, but his wife would never press charges. After I finished up the research on him, I started to wonder why the wife wouldn't put a stop to the abuse that her husband was so clearly delivering.

After telling Carlos about what I'd found in the search, I brought up my question about why the wife continued in the abusive relationship. He explained that often times, abuse was a vicious cycle that was hard to break. Abused women often live in denial and don't want to believe that their husbands or boyfriends would do something like that. Sometimes women are brought up in abusive homes, and then they unconsciously seek out love from men who are abusers themselves. And sometimes women who find themselves in these situations just don't have the support, finances, or ability to leave and make a fresh start.

The last part that he said- about not having the support of anyone to help them- really struck a chord with me. I thought back to all of the love and support that I had received during my recovery and I realized how lucky and blessed I had been. If I hadn't had all of the encouragement and love from my friends, my Dad, and my Grandma, then there's no telling what would have happened to me. I went back to my desk, deep in thought and determined to make a difference.

Later that night as Carlos and I were getting in bed, he pulled me to him. "What's going on in that pretty little head of yours, Babe? You've been thinking about something all evening. What is it?"

"Carlos, I was just thinking about our conversation earlier, when we were talking about abused women not having a way to stop the cycle. What if we could help them? What if we could make a difference?"

"What do you have in mind, Babe?"

"Well, after I went back to my desk I looked online and realized that there's not an organization here that assists women in domestic abuse cases. I was really lucky because I had you and all of the guys supporting me. I was able to afford therapy because I had insurance through Rangeman and a good job. What happens to women who don't have that? How do they deal with everything?"

"Babe, that's the problem. Often times, men have the women they abuse so dependent on them that there isn't an easy way out." Carlos pulled me to him and kissed my temple as he ran his hands over my hair. "Something tells me you have a plan in mind, Babe."

He was right. I did have a plan. And that plan was what would eventually develop into the Trenton Women's Center. We were able to start the center with donations and grant money. It would house a center for women to receive counseling, medical attention, and assistance with everything from medical bills to childcare. We even had a job assistance program set up along with a tuition scholarship program that was largely funded by Rangeman and other business donors. Throughout the past year, Carlos always believed in me and was my constant source of encouragement. It was hard to believe we'd been able to get the Center up and running in just under a years' time.

My thoughts brought me back to today and how excited Carlos and I were to see all of the hard work come to fruition. "Babe, we're going to be late for the ribbon cutting ceremony if we don't hurry."

"I know. I was just enjoying the quiet and peace. Today's going to be hectic."

Carlos made a contented sound. "Babe, you've done a great job with everything. I'm so proud of you. A lot of women's lives will be better because of the work you'll be doing at the Center."

"Thank you Carlos. But I couldn't have done it without your help and encouragement. Now go on so I can get dressed! If we stand here much longer with you touching me like that, I have a feeling that we won't be going anywhere." Carlos chuckled and placed one last kiss to my lips as he placed a quick pat to my ass. I finished dressing and after one last check in the mirror, I turned to make my way out of the bedroom. I grabbed my purse and a gift bag from the closet, and made my way into the kitchen where Carlos was patiently waiting for me with a bottle of water in his hand.

I handed Carlos the gift bag as I slid onto one of the bar stools in the kitchen. Carlos gave me an inquiring look, while raising one eyebrow, and said simply, "Babe?"

"Just open it. It's nothing much, really. But I wanted to give you something for all of your help over the past months. Carlos, I love you so much. And your love and support over the past year has meant more to me than you'll ever know. I hope you like it."

"Babe, you shouldn't have…"

"Carlos, just open it. Please?"

Carlos took the bag from me and pulled the tissue paper from the top. He reached inside and pulled out the one lone plate that was left over from a year ago. I'd broke all of the rest of the set, along with the cups, bowls, saucers, and a large bathroom mirror shortly after I was attacked. He'd understood what I needed that night and gave it freely. He knew what I needed even though, at the time, I didn't. And now, I hoped he understood what I was trying to say. I hoped he could see and feel how much love I had for him. His eyes met mine and then dropped to look at the plate held gently in his hands. I'd had it done at a local pottery shop and had asked the artist to paint a quote on the plate. When I picked it up, I was very pleased with the results and found that they'd also included a display stand for the plate. I thought it was a fitting gift for today, and a reminder of how far we'd come.

Carlos started to read the quote aloud, but had to stop to clear his voice as it broke with emotion. "Nothing happens unless first we dream."

I touched his cheek gently and smiled. "Carl Sandburg. He's one of your favorites. I hope you like it."

Carlos pulled me to him and hugged me tightly. "Babe, Stephanie. You have no idea how precious this gift is to me. Not only because of today, but also because of the love we share. There was a time when I could only dream of having you as my wife. I'm so proud of what you've done and how you've turned what could have been total devastation in your life into something positive. I'm so honored to call you my wife, and I'm so proud that you chose me as your husband. Te amo, Babe."

"Te amo, Carlos. I couldn't have done it without you. I have a feeling that today will be the first of many dreams that we find coming true throughout our future together. I can't wait for the journey, as long as you're by my side."

"Always, Babe. Always."