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Small Carmen blurb about just wanting to show him my pretty new dress.
Word count: 0.4k
“Carm—“
“Cant.”
Carmen’s grabbing at the essentials. Keys, phone, wallet. Shoving them all in his pants pocket while he runs around all jittery. Rude— but you understand.
“Running late, gotta get to the beef baby.”
He dawns a quick kiss to your forehead. You half smile as he starts to walk out the door.
It’s not important. Carmen’s job is much more major than your little outfit check. But you bought the dress specifically for him to gush over it. Carmen pays attention to detail; he knows when that’s a new shirt or dress on you and always comments.
Just not this time. Because he’s busy.
Which is okay. You can wait. Wait however long you need to for carmen. Even if your spirits are down for a little while.
But the door opens back up harshly. You think Carmen might have forgotten something but he strides back over to you and presses a long rough kiss onto your lips. It makes you smile.
“I’m sorry.” His words are rushed but they sound so genuine. “I’m so fucking sorry, you look beautiful. Did I say you look beautiful today?”
“Well—“ you shrug your shoulders. It’s a little flattering. Carmen didn’t need to be told to compliment you. He just remembered and then came back to tell you.
“You’re so pretty. Do a spin for me— yeah, just like that. Shittttt…. babe.”
Carmen takes your hand, raises it high and he spins you around. You see his eyes trail over your new dress and how it lays on your body. You feel flustered when he whistles.
“You’re so fucking hot.”
He kisses you again. Slower, he’s finally calming down. Hands on your hips and he breathes you in, pulls you closer. Like he’s embracing it. All of it.
“You really are so pretty.” He whispers and his voice— the way he spoke does something to your heart. “And lovely. And I love this new dress. Love it. And you. I love you.”
He’s back to rushing when his words get into a frensy. Pressing a flurry of kisses across your whole face as his body steps back from you. Even though he doesn’t want to.
“But I really do have to go.”
He’s walking away hesitantly to the door. Watching for a reaction that will never come, you can’t get upset at him now. Not when he’s so cute.
“You look gorgeous.” He opens the door and over his shoulder shouts. “Next Julia Roberts I swear baby!”
The door closes in a hurry, but once it’s shut everything slows. You feel giddy now. Pumped up thanks to all the silly complaints. Shaking your head you don’t take your eyes away from the door.
Summary: One quiet night is enough to make Lisa realize that the space she thought she needed no longer feels the way it used to. And sometimes, the hardest part of letting someone stay is believing they truly intend to.
A/N: And here we are—the penultimate chapter. 🥹 This one has been a long time coming, and I really hope the emotional payoff feels as earned to you as it did to me while writing it. Thank you so much for staying with Lisa, Carmy, and Ben through all of this. One chapter left. ❤️
A little note before you start: Tumblr doesn’t allow posts longer than 4,000 characters, so I had to divide this chapter into two parts.
Don’t worry—the story continues immediately in Part B, which I’ll post right after this one.
I hope you enjoy it! ❤️
The apartment settled into its usual rhythm. Dinner. A bath.
Two stories because Ben insisted dinosaurs couldn't possibly go to sleep after only one.
By the time Lisa quietly pulled his bedroom door shut, the apartment had fallen still.
She stood there for a second, one hand resting on the doorknob.
Usually, around now Carmy would be getting his backpack and heading to the front door. He’d come to her and—
She caught herself before the thought finished.
No.
Not tonight.
She walked into the kitchen instead.
The vegetables she'd chopped earlier were still in the fridge. She reheated leftovers she barely tasted, carried the plate to the table, then opened her laptop.
The cursor blinked.
She wrote one sentence. Deleted it. Tried again. Nothing.
With a frustrated sigh, Lisa leaned back in her chair.
Her phone sat beside the computer.
Dark.
For the last two weeks, sometime between eight and midnight, it had almost always lit up.
Running late.
Richie forgot to order lemons.
Marcus made too much bread again.
Nothing important. Just small pieces of his day finding their way into hers.
Tonight, there was nothing.
She reached for the phone. Stopped.
He's working. Of course he was working.
She set it back down.
Outside, a siren moved somewhere through the city. The refrigerator hummed. Pipes shifted behind the wall.
The apartment wasn't silent.
Just still.
Eventually, she gave up on the article. She loaded the dishwasher, wiped down the counters, and turned off the lights one by one.
When she stepped into the bedroom, her eyes went immediately to his side of the bed.
Empty.
Lisa frowned at herself.
It had been one night. One.
She changed into an old T-shirt, climbed beneath the blankets, and reached for the lamp.
That was when she noticed his little paperback lay open face-down on the nightstand, a grocery receipt tucked between the pages where he had stopped.
A small smile pulled at her mouth.
She placed it back exactly where it had been.
The room smelled faintly of his soap. Or maybe the pillow did.
She switched off the lamp and rolled onto her side.
For a while, she stared into the dark.
Then New York slipped quietly into the room.
A gray sweatshirt over the back of a chair. A knife roll against the wall. Coffee beans in her cupboard. His toothbrush beside hers.
Little pieces of him appearing until she'd started believing they meant something.
Until she'd thought—
He's staying.
Lisa squeezed her eyes shut.
It wasn't the same.
She knew that. It couldn't be.
Still, the old fear had found something familiar enough to hold on to.
She turned onto her back.
Why had asking him not to come home felt so necessary?
And why did getting exactly what she'd asked for feel so wrong?
She didn't have an answer.
Long after midnight, Lisa rolled onto the side of the bed he'd slept on every night for the last two weeks and buried her face in his pillow.
Just for a second.
It still smelled like him.
"Come on," she whispered, embarrassed even though no one could hear her.
Sleep finally came.
Not because she'd figured anything out.
Because she'd run out of strength to keep trying.
-----
The sound from the monitor woke her sometime after seven.
A soft cough.
Then the rustle of blankets and Ben murmuring sleepily to himself.
Lisa opened her eyes.
Her hand was resting on the empty half of the mattress.
For one disoriented second, she waited for the sound of the shower.
Nothing came.
Right.
She pushed herself upright and rubbed both hands over her face.
It had been one night. That was all.
Coffee first.
By the time Ben wandered sleepily into the kitchen, clutching the stuffed elephant he'd refused to sleep without since Christmas, Lisa already had breakfast spread across the counter.
"Morning, bug."
Ben rubbed at one eye before lifting both arms expectantly.
She smiled despite herself and picked him up.
"There you are."
He rested his head against her shoulder for exactly three seconds before twisting toward the counter, suddenly very interested in the strawberries she'd just cut.
"So that's the priority, huh?"
She set him into his highchair.
Breakfast unfolded the way mornings usually did.
Strawberries.
Toast.
A sippy cup that somehow ended up upside down despite every law of physics.
She cleaned sticky fingers, wiped yogurt off tiny cheeks, found one missing sock under the coffee table.
Normal.
Completely normal.
Only...
Halfway through packing Ben's daycare bag, she caught herself glancing toward the hallway.
Almost expecting to hear footsteps.
Or the bathroom door opening.
Or the familiar scrape of a chef's knife against the cutting board because Carmy had somehow decided that making them both breakfast before leaving was faster than letting her do it.
Silence.
She zipped the bag closed.
"It's just us today."
Ben looked up at her from where he was attempting to put one shoe on the wrong foot.
"Dada?"
The word came so casually it barely sounded like a question.
Lisa paused.
"He had to work earlier today."
Ben seemed perfectly satisfied with the explanation.
He simply nodded once and returned his full concentration to the impossible task of convincing his sneaker to fit over his heel.
----
The ride to Stephen's took a little longer than usual.
Ben spent most of it pressed against the window, pointing out every bus, truck, and flash of graffiti they passed with the kind of wholehearted enthusiasm only a toddler could manage.
By the time they climbed the station steps, he'd forgotten all about asking for Carmy.
Stephen opened the door before Lisa had the chance to knock.
"Hey, Mama."
Ben broke into an immediate grin.
"Tephen!"
Stephen laughed and crouched down in front of him.
"Still working on that S, huh?"
Ben held up both arms.
Stephen looked past him at Lisa, one eyebrow lifting.
"Didn't think I'd see you this morning."
Lisa adjusted the strap of Ben's daycare bag on her shoulder.
"No?"
"Thought baby daddy had mornings now."
He said it lightly, already reaching for Ben, like it was nothing more than an observation.
Lisa blinked.
"Not all of them."
Stephen took the bag from her.
"Could've fooled me."
Something about the words caught.
Not because they were wrong.
Because she'd never realized there was enough of a pattern for anyone else to notice.
"I wanted to bring him today," she said.
Stephen only nodded, attention already shifting back to Ben.
"Well, lucky me."
He held out his arms.
"You coming in, buddy? We've got finger paint."
Ben launched himself forward without so much as a glance back.
Traitor.
Lisa laughed under her breath.
"I'll see you this afternoon."
Stephen gave her an easy smile.
"See you then, Mama."
The door closed behind them.
Lisa stood on the porch for another second.
Baby daddy had mornings now.
Apparently, from the outside, Carmy's place in their life already looked settled.
Ordinary.
She wasn't sure why that made something tighten beneath her ribs.
----
The apartment was quiet when Lisa came back.
She dropped her keys into the bowl beside the door, slipped off her coat, and carried her laptop to the kitchen table.
Working from home had seemed like the better idea.
No interruptions. No conversations happening over her shoulder. No Nick appearing beside her desk every twenty minutes to ask whether she had decided between two nearly identical photographs.
Just silence.
Space to think.
For the first fifteen minutes, it even worked.
She adjusted the opening paragraph, moved one of the quotes higher, and replaced a photograph that had been bothering her since the night before.
Then the Teams notification sounded from her laptop.
Nick.
Lisa glanced at the time before accepting the call.
His face appeared on the screen a second later, framed by the glass wall of his office. He was looking somewhere below the camera, probably at the article.
“Morning.”
“Morning.”
“You’re not coming in?”
Lisa tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“No. I thought I’d get more done here.”
Nick lifted his eyes toward the screen.
“Did you?”
“For about fifteen minutes.”
One corner of his mouth moved.
“I opened the draft.”
“I figured.”
“There wasn’t much there from last Friday.”
Lisa looked down at the keyboard.
“I tried.”
“I can see that.”
The words were direct, but not unkind.
“I’m working on it now,” she said. “I still need to sort through the last group of pictures, and the middle section isn’t really—”
“The middle section is fine.”
She frowned.
“It’s not. It drags.”
“It needs trimming. That’s not the same thing.”
Lisa leaned back slightly.
Nick clicked something on his end.
“The direction is right. The photographs are good. Pick one, stop moving them around, and finish the piece.”
“I’m not moving them around.”
“You’ve changed the lead image four times since eight-thirty.”
She stared at him.
“You can see that?”
“I can see everything.”
“That’s unsettling.”
“It’s meant to be.”
Despite herself, Lisa smiled.
Nick studied her for a moment.
“You all right?”
The smile disappeared almost as quickly as it had come.
“Yeah.”
He waited.
Lisa glanced toward the edge of the screen, where her phone lay beside the laptop.
Dark.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I just needed some space to think.”
Nick’s expression changed only slightly.
“Is it helping?”
She looked around the quiet kitchen.
“Still deciding.”
Another pause.
Then he nodded once.
“Send it by the end of the day.”
“I will.”
“Or maximum tomorrow morning.”
“I won’t.”
“You probably will.”
The call ended before she could answer.
Lisa sat there for a moment, staring at her own faint reflection in the darkened window where Nick’s face had been.
Then she pulled the article back onto the screen.
She worked for another twenty minutes.
Three paragraphs.
Two captions.
One photograph finally placed where it belonged.
It should have felt like progress.
Instead, every few minutes, her attention slipped toward the phone beside her.
She turned it facedown.
Kept writing.
Changed one sentence.
Changed it back.
Eventually, she got up to make coffee.
The refrigerator hummed when she opened it.
For a moment, she only stood there.
The shelves were fuller than they had any right to be.
Her yogurt sat in the door. Not the brand she usually settled for when the grocery store was out, but the exact one she liked. Two cartons, because Carmy had apparently noticed she always ran out halfway through the week.
A container of sliced strawberries sat on the middle shelf, already washed and cut small enough for Ben.
Beside it, a jar of tomato sauce had a strip of masking tape across the lid.
TUESDAY.
His handwriting.
There was stock in the back, portioned into containers. Vegetables wrapped properly instead of abandoned in the plastic bags Lisa usually left them in until they started to soften.
He had noticed what they ate.
What Ben would finish.
What Lisa forgot to buy.
What spoiled before she remembered it was there.
He had filled the refrigerator not like a guest trying to be helpful, but like someone who expected to open it again.
Lisa took out the milk and closed the door.
Her phone buzzed on the table.
She turned so quickly that the carton nearly slipped from her hand.
For one breath, she was certain it was him.
It wasn’t.
A reminder filled the screen.
DENTIST — TOMORROW, 10:30 A.M.
Lisa stared at it.
Then slowly set the milk on the counter.
She had been waiting.
All morning, she had been waiting.
Every vibration.
Every notification.
Every time the screen lit up.
She had told herself she was checking the time or expecting something from Nick, but Nick had just spoken to her. The article was open. Ben was at Stephen’s.
There was no one else she was expecting.
Only Carmy.
Her thumb moved across the screen, dismissing the reminder.
His name sat near the top of her recent calls.
Maybe he was busy.
He was probably already at The Bear.
Maybe he had decided to give her what she had asked for.
Space.
The word felt different now than it had the night before.
He had listened.
Of course he had.
She had asked him not to come home, and he had believed her.
Lisa looked back toward the refrigerator.
At the yogurt.
The strawberries.
The careful strip of tape across the sauce.
Small decisions made before she had ever thought to ask for them.
She returned to the table and sat down.
Whatever she had meant in the kitchen, she was beginning to understand that it was not what he had heard.
And she did not want to let him keep believing it.
Before she could think herself out of it, Lisa pressed his name.
The phone rang once.
Twice.
Then—
“Hey.”
His voice came quickly, sharper than she expected.
“Hey.”
“Everything okay?”
The question was immediate.
Lisa straightened.
“Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.”
“Ben?”
“He’s fine. He’s at Stephen’s.”
A breath left him on the other end.
“Okay.”
Noise moved behind him. Metal clattering. Someone calling something she couldn’t make out.
Lisa looked down at the table.
“I just…”
She stopped.
Carmy waited.
“I wanted to see if you were okay.”
Another pause.
“Me?”
“After last night.”
Someone spoke close to him.
Carmy answered, his voice muffled for a second.
“Yeah, put it in the walk-in. No, not there—the other shelf.”
Lisa closed her eyes.
“I’m sorry. You’re busy.”
“Yeah, I’m—” More noise. “Hold on.”
She heard movement then. A door opening. Voices fading behind him.
When he spoke again, it was quieter.
“Okay. What were you saying?”
Lisa ran her thumb along the edge of the phone.
“I don’t know.”
“You called.”
“I know.”
“Because you wanted to talk.”
“I did. I do.”
She looked toward the refrigerator.
“I just don’t really know what I’m trying to say yet.”
Carmy was quiet.
Then someone called his name again, distant but insistent.
“Fuck me.”
“It’s okay,” Lisa said. “Go. Really.”
“No, Lis, wait.”
“I shouldn’t have called you in the middle of prep.”
“That’s not—” He broke off. “You home?”
“Yeah.”
“You staying there?”
Lisa frowned slightly.
“Yes.”
“Okay.” There was another crash somewhere behind him. “I gotta deal with something.”
“Carmen—”
“I’ll call you back. Half an hour, alright?”
She glanced at the time.
“Okay.”
The line went dead.
Lisa lowered the phone slowly.
For a moment, she sat without moving.
That had gone well.
She had interrupted him during prep, frightened him into thinking something had happened to Ben, and then admitted she wanted to talk without having any idea what she wanted to say.
Perfect.
She placed the phone beside the laptop and pulled the article back onto the screen.
The paragraph she had been working on was still there.
So was the cursor.
She read the first sentence.
Then the second.
By the end of the third, she had retained none of it.
After what felt like an eternity, she pushed the laptop away.
Her eyes moved toward the clock on the wall.
Twenty minutes passed.
She picked up her coffee. It had gone cold.
“Great.”
She carried it to the sink, rinsed the mug, and stood there for a moment with both hands resting against the counter.
Maybe she should have waited.
Maybe she should have known what she wanted before calling him.
Maybe—
The key turned in the lock.
Lisa froze.
The sound was so familiar that her body recognized it before her mind did.
Summary: One quiet night is enough to make Lisa realize that the space she thought she needed no longer feels the way it used to. And sometimes, the hardest part of letting someone stay is believing they truly intend to.
A little note before you start: Tumblr doesn’t allow posts longer than 4,000 characters, so I had to divide this chapter into two parts.
Here's part two. I hope you enjoy it! ❤️
First part here
“Lisa?”
Carmy stepped inside, still in his work clothes, his jacket only half-zipped.
She stared at him.
“You said you were going to call.”
“Yeah.” He shut the door behind him. “I know.”
For a second, neither of them moved.
Carmy still had one hand wrapped around his keys. His cheeks were pink from the cold outside, his hair pushed into disarray by the wind. He looked like he had left in the middle of something—which, of course, he had.
Lisa glanced at the clock on the stove.
“You drove all the way here?”
“Yeah.”
“In the middle of prep.”
“Richie’s got it.”
“Richie?”
“And Syd. And Tina.”
She folded her arms loosely over herself.
“You left Richie in charge?”
His mouth twitched, but the almost-smile disappeared before it could fully form.
“I didn’t leave him alone.”
There it was again.
Quiet.
Careful.
Carmy dropped his keys into the bowl beside the door. The sound seemed strangely loud in the apartment.
Then he shrugged out of his jacket.
He hesitated before hanging it on the hook, like he was no longer sure whether he was supposed to.
Lisa noticed.
“You can put it there.”
His eyes moved to hers.
He hung it up.
The gesture should not have hurt.
It did.
He had put his jacket on that same hook for the past two weeks without thinking. Now every movement looked measured, as though he was waiting for her to tell him which parts of their life he was still allowed to touch.
Lisa looked away first.
“You didn’t have to come.”
“Yeah, I did.” He paused, searching for her eyes. “You wanted to talk.”
His voice was not impatient. If anything, the certainty in it made her more nervous.
“I said I didn’t know what I wanted to say.”
“Okay.”
“Could you stop saying okay?”
Carmy blinked.
“Sorry.”
“That’s not—” She pressed her lips together. “You don’t have to apologize for saying okay.”
“Okay.”
Despite herself, a small laugh escaped her.
Carmy’s shoulders lowered by barely an inch.
It only made the tightness in her chest worse.
He took a few steps into the kitchen, then stopped on the opposite side of the table.
Her laptop sat between them, the dark screen reflecting the light from the window. Beside it, her phone was still facedown.
“You finish?”
“The article?”
“Yeah.”
“Not really... Gotta work on it a bit more. Nick will still probably send it back covered in comments.”
“He always does that?”
“Usually.”
Carmy nodded.
The conversation dissolved.
Lisa stared at him.
He stared at the table.
They were talking about Nick.
He had left The Bear in the middle of prep because she had called him and admitted that something was wrong, and now they were standing in her kitchen talking about tracked changes.
“Carm.”
His eyes lifted immediately.
“I think last night came out wrong.”
He went very still.
“Okay.”
She gave him a look.
“Right. Sorry.”
Lisa rubbed her palms over the sides of her jeans.
“When I asked you not to come back…”
Carmy’s gaze dropped for a moment.
She hated that.
“I wasn’t trying to tell you I didn’t want you here.”
He looked at her again.
“It felt like that.”
The honesty of it landed harder than defensiveness would have.
Lisa swallowed.
“I mean, I know you didn’t say it like that,” he said, running his hand over his messy hair.
“But that’s what you heard.”
He shifted his weight.
“Kind of.”
Lisa said, “Why?”
His eyebrows drew together.
“Why?”
“Why did you think that?”
Carmy looked at her as though the answer were obvious.
“Because you asked me not to come back.”
“For one night.”
“Yeah.”
“That doesn’t mean I wanted you gone.”
“I wasn’t sure.”
The words were quiet. Not accusing.
That somehow made them worse.
Lisa leaned back against the counter behind her.
“You thought I wanted you to back off.”
“Yeah.”
Carmy rubbed his thumb over his lips.
“I’ve been here a lot.”
The statement was so simple that it took her a second to understand what he meant.
“I’m here in the mornings. I’m—I don’t know. Buying shit. Cooking. Moving stuff around.”
“You don’t move stuff around.”
“I moved the salt.”
“You moved it closer to the stove.”
“Yeah.”
“Because you complained about where I kept it for days.”
“It didn’t make sense over there.”
“It made sense to me.”
“Right.”
She watched him.
He was frowning now, not because of the salt, but because they had somehow wandered away from the thing they were both trying to say.
Carmy dragged a hand over his messy hair.
“I just thought maybe I’d…”
He stopped.
“What?”
“Taken up too much space.”
Lisa’s chest tightened.
There was no self-pity in the words.
Only a quiet conclusion he had reached while walking out of her apartment the night before.
“No.”
“Lis—”
“No.”
Her answer came so quickly that he stopped.
“You didn’t.”
“I texted Noah without talking to you.”
“And I wish you hadn’t.”
He nodded once.
“I know.”
“But that’s not the same thing, Carm.”
“It felt connected.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Then what was it, Lis?”
The question was not sharp. That was the problem.
If he had been angry, she could have defended herself. If he had accused her of pushing him away, she could have explained why that was unfair.
Instead, Carmy simply stood there and waited for an answer she still did not know how to give.
Lisa looked toward the window.
“I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Try.”
There was fear in his voice now, however hard he was working to keep it out.
Lisa pushed away from the counter and moved the laptop aside, needing something to do with her hands.
“Matt said something yesterday. About me spending so long waiting for something bad to happen that I don’t know what to do when it doesn’t.”
Carmy said nothing.
“I think he was right.”
She pulled out a chair and sat down.
Carmy remained standing until she gave him a tired look.
“You don’t have to pay for sitting, you know.”
He took the chair across from her.
Lisa looked at the small burn healing near one of his knuckles. She remembered cold water running over his hand. Ben calling Dada from the doorway. Carmy kissing her while she scolded him for not paying attention.
Just a few days before. A whole life contained in something that small.
“When I came back after dropping Ben off, I kept looking at my phone.”
His eyes shifted toward it.
“I kept thinking you were going to text.”
“I thought you wanted space.”
“I know.”
“That’s why I didn’t.”
“I know, Carmen.”
Frustration broke through at last.
“I know you listened. I know you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Then why are you—”
“Because we’ve been here before.”
The words came out so suddenly that the room seemed to change around them.
Carmy stopped.
Lisa’s throat tightened.
Neither of them had to ask what she meant.
He knew.
She could see it in his face.
“New York,” he said.
Lisa nodded.
The word sat between them.
Heavy.
Old.
Still alive enough to hurt.
“Your things were everywhere,” she said. “Your clothes. Your notebooks. Those ridiculous coffee beans you always insisted on buying.”
Carmy looked down.
“Your toothbrush beside mine.”
“Lisa—”
“No. Just let me say it.”
He closed his mouth.
“I noticed every single thing. Every shirt you left. Every time you bought something for the apartment. Every night you stayed.”
Her voice caught.
“I thought it meant you were staying.”
Carmy’s jaw tightened.
“I wanted to, Lis. I—yeah. I did.”
“I know.” She shook her head gently. “I know you were in a different place. We both were. I’m not trying to punish you for that.”
He swallowed.
“And I know this isn’t the same. I know you aren’t the same.”
Lisa glanced around the kitchen.
“But it’s been happening again. Since we decided to try this.”
Carmy remained silent.
“You come home with Ben. You buy groceries. You know what he’ll eat when he’s tired. You know when I’m almost out of yogurt.”
A tear slipped free before she could stop it.
She wiped it away impatiently.
“You’re in everything now. His daycare. His dinner. My work. What time we go to bed.”
Her voice dropped.
“I didn’t realize how much of my life had started including you.”
Carmy’s hands tightened together.
“And then suddenly I did.”
The silence stretched.
“For one second, it felt like New York.”
His expression tightened.
“Lis… yeah. I—okay.”
“That’s the part I couldn’t understand.” She wiped beneath her eye again. “Because you show up.”
The words trembled.
“Every day. You tell me when you’re going to be late. You come back after service even when you’re exhausted and have to leave again a few hours later.”
She drew in a shaky breath.
“Back then, I waited for you.”
Carmy’s eyes closed briefly.
“Yeah.”
“Now you show up.”
He opened them again.
“You’ve made room for us in your life. I know that. That’s why none of it made sense.”
“But it still scared you.”
“Yes.”
The answer left her before pride could interfere.
“You thought I was gonna leave.”
Lisa opened her mouth.
Closed it.
“Maybe.”
Carmy waited.
She hated how patient he had become, because it left her with nowhere to hide.
“I know I’d be okay,” she said.
His forehead creased.
“What—what do you mean?”
“If you left.”
He went pale.
“I’m not— I’m not leaving.”
“Let me finish.”
Carmy stopped, jaw tightening.
“I know I’d survive it. I did before. I raised Ben. I worked. I made a life. I know I could keep doing all of that.”
Her hands trembled in her lap.
“But I don’t want to.”
The room seemed to narrow around them.
Lisa’s voice broke.
“I don’t want to have to learn how to live without you again.”
Something inside his expression gave way.
Carmy pushed his chair back, the legs scraping against the floor, and moved around the table.
Lisa’s breath caught.
For one second, she thought he was leaving.
Instead, he pulled out the chair beside her and sat down. Close, but not touching.
“Hey—look at me.”
His voice was rough.
Lisa lifted her chin.
His eyes were wet, the blue of them brighter for it, his brows drawn tight as though he was holding himself in place.
She had seen him unravel before.
She had seen him disappear inside himself.
This was different.
He was right there—terrified and completely present.
“I’m staying. I—yeah. Not going anywhere.”
“You can’t know that.”
“Yes, I can.”
“Carmen, people don’t get to promise that nothing will ever—”
“I’m not promising nothing’s gonna happen, okay?”
Urgency sharpened his voice.
“I’m not saying it’s always gonna be good. I’m not saying I’m never gonna fuck up— I mean, I will. I do.”
A soft, shaky laugh escaped her.
Carmy’s mouth twitched.
“I mean, I’ve got a reputation for it, right?”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “You do.”
He leaned slightly toward her, one hand resting on his thigh.
“But I know what I’m choosing. I— I know that.”
Lisa held his gaze.
“This isn’t just happening to me. I didn’t end up here by accident.”
Her breath caught.
“I don’t stay over because it’s easy. I don’t pick Ben up because there’s nobody else.”
He stopped, exhaled through his nose, then forced himself to continue.
“I want him to see me at the door.”
Lisa’s eyes filled again.
“I want to know what he’ll eat when he’s sick. Which blanket he needs when he sleeps. Where you keep the Tylenol.”
His voice roughened.
“I come back after service because I want to wake up with you. Even if it’s, like, four hours later, I— I still come back.”
Her lower lip trembled.
“I asked Noah and Matt to dinner because they’re your family. And I want to know them. I want to be part of that.”
He looked directly at her.
“I chose this.”
A beat.
“I keep choosing it. Every day.”
Lisa could barely breathe.
“I want to be Ben’s dad. I want all of it. All of it.”
His jaw tightened.
“But I’m not here only because he’s mine. That’s not it.”
Something in her chest cracked open.
“I’m here because of you. I’m here for you.”
“Carm…”
“I want this life, Lisa.”
His hand moved between them, not quite touching her.
“You can ask me for a night, Lis. You can tell me you need space. That’s— that’s okay.”
She looked at him.
“I’m still coming back. I am.”
The words landed quietly.
Completely.
“I don’t want you waiting for me to leave.”
Lisa looked down at his hand.
Then she reached for it.
Her fingers slid over his, uncertain at first, before she laced them together.
Carmy stilled.
She held their joined hands between them like something fragile.
Then she moved closer and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, shifting fully into him until she was straddling his lap, one leg on each side of his.
Carmy froze for half a second.
His arms came around her immediately after, firm and warm, pulling her against him.
Lisa pressed her face into his neck, settling closer against him.
He held her like he meant it.
Not tightly enough to trap her.
Only enough to let her feel that he was there.
When she lifted her head, their foreheads rested together.
“I’m staying, alright?” he said again.
His voice was low now.
Certain.
Then, softer—
“Because I love you, Lis.”
Lisa didn’t answer immediately.
Her hand rose to his cheek.
Warm.
Real.
Carmy went still beneath her touch.
Her thumb brushed lightly over his skin, and she closed her eyes for a second.
It hurt.
Not in the way she had feared.
In the way something long denied finally being named could hurt.
“I should’ve—” he stopped, exhaled through his nose, tried again. “I should’ve said it before.”
Her eyes opened.
“When?”
Carmy didn’t hesitate, but his jaw tightened like he was bracing anyway.
“New York.”
Something in her expression broke open.
“I loved you then,” he said, voice catching slightly before he forced it steady. “I just— I didn’t say it. I didn’t… know how to say it without—” He cut himself off, shaking his head once. “I didn’t say it.”
Lisa’s fingers stilled against his face.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was rough and uneven, words coming out in pieces. “For leaving. For not— for not saying any of it. For making you—” He swallowed. “For making you figure it out without me.”
She studied him closely.
The man who had once left her with nothing.
The man holding her now, forcing himself to say everything he hadn’t before.
“I love you too,” she said.
The words came softly.
Steadily.
Carmy’s breath caught, like he hadn’t quite let himself expect it.
She saw them reach him somewhere he had not prepared to defend.
Lisa slid her hand into the hair at the back of his neck and pulled him toward her.
The kiss began softly. Only for a second.
For two weeks, they had stopped themselves at this exact edge. Kisses that deepened and then softened. Hands that wandered only far enough to remind them what they were waiting for.
They had called it taking things slowly.
And it had been that.
But it had also been fear.
There was nothing left between them to hide behind.
Carmy’s hand tightened at her waist, and something inside both of them finally gave way.
Lisa kissed him harder.
He answered with a quiet, broken sound against her mouth, his other arm wrapping around her as he pulled her closer across his lap. There was no careful space left between them now. No breath in which either of them could remember why they had spent so many nights stopping.
His mouth moved over hers with a hunger that made her fingers tighten in his hair.
“Lis,” he breathed.
She felt the word more than heard it.
Carmy drew back barely far enough to look at her, his breathing uneven, his forehead pressed against hers.
Lisa could still see the question in his eyes.
Not uncertainty.
Care.
She held his gaze.
“Don’t stop this time.”
Something changed in his face.
“I won’t.”
He kissed her again.
The restraint disappeared.
His hand slid beneath the back of her shirt, warm against her skin, and Lisa arched closer before he had even fully touched her. Carmy inhaled sharply, his fingers spreading over her back as though he needed to feel all of her at once.
She kissed his cheek, his jaw, the place beneath his ear that made his breathing catch.
For once, he did not pull away when the want became too much.
He let her feel it.
The heat of him beneath her. The unsteady movement of his chest. The way his hands trembled slightly despite how firmly he held her.
Lisa shifted from his lap only long enough to stand.
Carmy’s hand caught hers immediately.
She took one step toward the hallway.
He followed.
They made it only a few feet before he pulled her back and kissed her again, one hand settling at her waist while the other cupped the back of her neck.
Lisa smiled against his mouth.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
His lips found hers again before she could say anything else.
The short walk to the bedroom became a series of interrupted steps, their hands never quite leaving each other. At the edge of the bed, Lisa turned toward him.
Carmy stopped.
The pale afternoon light fell through the curtains, catching in her hair and across the flushed skin of her face.
He looked at her as though he had never seen her before.
Not because he had forgotten.
Because she was not exactly the woman he remembered.
Neither of them was.
Lisa reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it upward. Carmy helped her, dropping it somewhere beside the bed without looking away from her.
Her hands settled against his chest.
She remembered the shape of him, but there were years beneath her fingertips now. New scars. Harder lines. Evidence of a life she had not been there to witness.
Carmy reached for her shirt.
He paused with his fingers beneath the fabric.
Not asking.
Waiting.
Lisa lifted her arms.
He drew it over her head slowly.
The shirt fell to the floor.
For a moment, Carmy only looked at her.
His gaze moved across her face, her shoulders, the body that had changed since he had last known it this way.
Lisa felt unexpectedly exposed.
Not ashamed.
Only seen.
Carmy’s eyes lowered to the faint, pale lines across her hips and lower stomach.
His expression shifted.
There was no surprise in it. No pity.
His thumb moved carefully over one of the lines.
“You’re beautiful, Lis.”
Her throat tightened.
“Carm—”
“I mean it.”
There was no urgency in the words.
No attempt to convince her of something he did not believe.
He simply looked at her.
All of her.
Like there was nothing he wanted her to hide.
He lowered himself and pressed his mouth to the place his fingers had touched.
Lisa’s breath caught.
Carmy kissed another faint line.
Then again, closer to her hip, his hand warm against her side.
Her fingers slipped into his hair.
Carmy looked up at her.
“Thank you.”
Lisa went still.
“For what?”
His jaw tightened slightly.
For a moment, she thought he might try to explain.
He didn’t.
“Everything.”
The word came out rough.
Barely more than a whisper.
Lisa understood anyway.
She drew him back to his feet and kissed him before either of them could become overwhelmed by everything contained inside it.
The tenderness remained, but it no longer softened the desire. It deepened it.
They undressed each other without hurry.
Not because they were uncertain.
Because they had waited too long to rush through any part of it.
Every piece of clothing revealed something familiar and something new. Carmy’s hands moved over her with quiet attention, relearning the shape of her. Lisa did the same, tracing scars she did not recognize and feeling his muscles tighten beneath her palms.
They were not trying to recreate New York.
They were meeting each other as they were now.
Carmy reached for the button of his jeans, then stopped.
“Shit.”
Lisa looked up from where she sat at the edge of the mattress.
“What?”
“Nothing. I just—”
He reached into the back pocket and pulled out his wallet.
Understanding dawned when he opened it and pulled out the condom tucked inside.
Lisa’s eyebrows lifted.
“You came prepared.”
Carmy’s face flushed immediately.
“I didn’t come here expecting this.”
“Of course not.”
The smile in her voice made his eyes narrow.
“I’ve just had it.”
“In your wallet?”
“Yeah.”
“For emergencies?”
“Lis.”
She laughed softly and reached for his wrist, drawing him closer until he stood between her knees.
“So, what?” Her fingers moved idly against his skin. “Not ready for another one yet?”
She meant it as a joke.
Carmy’s expression changed.
“Not yet.”
Lisa’s smile softened.
“Yet?”
He glanced down at the condom in his hand, suddenly looking more nervous than he had while undressing her.
“I mean—not now.”
“I understood that part.”
His eyes returned to hers.
“But not never.”
Something warm tightened beneath her ribs.
“You’ve thought about it?”
“A little.”
“Carmen.”
He exhaled, almost frustrated at being caught.
“I don’t know. Maybe someday.”
His gaze held hers.
“If you wanted.”
“If I wanted to.”
“Yeah.” His answer came immediately. “Only if you wanted to.”
Lisa studied him.
The man who had discovered he was a father only months ago was already allowing himself to imagine doing it differently.
Being there from the beginning.
The thought was almost too tender to hold.
She stood, slid her hand around the back of his neck, and pulled him down.
“Ask me again in a year.”
Carmy’s mouth brushed hers.
“Yeah?”
“Maybe.”
His quiet laugh disappeared into their kiss.
Carmy set his wallet aside and stepped out of his jeans. His usually precise fingers were less steady as he tore open the foil, and Lisa couldn’t help the small smile that touched her mouth.
He glanced at her.
“What?”
“Just watching.”
His eyes narrowed, but she caught him by the back of the neck before he could ask again.
Lisa moved backward onto the mattress, taking him with her.
Carmy followed, settling above her, his hair falling over his forehead and his lips swollen from kissing her.
For a moment, he only looked at her.
Then his forehead rested against hers.
“Tell me,” he whispered.
It was not a question about whether she wanted this.
They both knew that now.
Lisa touched his mouth with her fingertips.
“What?”
“What you want.”
Her heart beat hard against her ribs.
“You.”
Carmy closed his eyes briefly.
When he opened them, the last trace of restraint was gone.
He kissed her as he settled between her thighs, one hand sliding down her body with a care that made every touch feel deliberate. Lisa drew him closer, her leg curling around him, her mouth finding his shoulder when his fingers made her breath catch.
Carmy listened to every sound she made.
Watched every shift in her face.
Not nervously.
Hungrily.
As though learning what she wanted was part of wanting her.
When he finally moved inside her, both of them went still.
Carmy’s forehead dropped to hers.
His breath shook.
Lisa held his face between her hands.
For one suspended moment, neither of them moved.
They had been here before, years ago.
But it had never felt like this.
There had always been something unspoken between them then. Something Carmy could not name and Lisa had been too afraid to ask for.
Now there was nothing left unsaid.
“I love you,” he whispered.
Lisa’s eyes burned.
“I love you too.”
She kissed him.
Then moved beneath him.
Carmy’s breath broke against her mouth.
They found each other slowly.
Not perfectly.
They had both changed. Their bodies had changed. The rhythm they remembered no longer belonged to them.
So they made another one.
Carmy adjusted when she pulled him closer. Slowed when her hand tightened against his shoulder. Lisa learned the new sounds he made, the places where tension gathered beneath his skin, the way his control slipped whenever she said his name.
There was no performance in it.
No attempt to make up for the years between them.
Only the quiet, overwhelming discovery that they could still belong to each other without becoming the people they had once been.
The pleasure built slowly, tangled with something deeper until Lisa could no longer separate one from the other.
Carmy’s hand found hers against the mattress.
Their fingers locked together.
He looked at her the entire time.
In awe.
In love.
As though he still could not believe she had chosen him back.
When the feeling finally broke through her, Lisa pulled him close, his name catching against his shoulder.
Carmy held her through it.
His mouth pressed to her temple, her cheek, anywhere he could reach.
He followed with her arms still around him, his face buried against her neck, her name leaving him like something sacred.
Afterward, he did not immediately move away.
His weight settled carefully against her, his face still hidden beside hers, their joined hands resting against the pillow.
Lisa felt his heartbeat slowly begin to ease.
Neither of them spoke.
They did not need to fill the silence.
This silence was different.
Carmy lifted his head eventually.
His eyes found hers.
Lisa touched the damp curl resting against his forehead.
He turned his face and kissed her palm.
Nothing was holding them back anymore.
Not New York.
Not the years between them.
Not the fear that loving each other would somehow make the loss inevitable.
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Don't get me wrong i love the pitt but the nominations are wild im sorry... i hope sepideh wins and what not but the more i find out about some bullshit the more pissed i am so... i'll write my porn and have a ball but if i catch yall being racist on my TL a bomb is being sent your way thanks
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yo im a tumblr lurker but i just wanna say your smau is sooo good i feel like u captured how carmy would text really well!! i like the contrast between how sugar texts the reader and how carmy uses very short messages every few hours/days. like u clearly understand these characters on a deeper level i hope u get to write more of these!
Thank you sm!!!
Sometimes I actually worry a bit if what I write fits him or not, so I’m very happy to hear this <3
“mmh- thanks baby” Carmen said softly. you had just finished putting sunscreen on his face and chest, kissing him as you did so. the two of you sat under the soft shade the big red umbrella over your provided. it was a beautiful day, and the beach wasn’t too packed with large families and other couples. you kissed carm like no one was watching, because for once in your hectic lives no one was. you moved off his lap and sat back onto the beach towel next to him and began to get comfortable yourself, legs bent and arms reaching up to retie your bun, trying to avoid getting sand in the delicately woven strands when you laid down. in doing so you were giving your shameless boyfriend the perfect view of how amazing your tits sat in the top of your swim suit and he raked his eyes over your moisturized legs, bringing up his own to rest his head upon. “see something y’like?” you tease, tilting your head towards him and moving to rub your hands down the undersides of your thighs. “yeah, i do” carmy boldly played with you back “m’wondering if you taste as sweet as you look”. “good thing you can find out right now..” you started and cut him off with what was supposed to be a small peck to his lips, but he deepened it and placed a hand on your cheek.
you moved into him, breaking the kiss to find yourself sitting side ways in his lap. the pressure perfectly hitting the growing erection in his swim shorts. “i always find myself in your lap carm dont i?” you kissed over his mouth and cheek, “i dunno, guess it’s your seat baby” he shrugged with a smirk. “need you right now, please” he whined. “not now bear, we’re gonna get into the water soon.” `you brought your face back to his, smiling at the pouty look spread across his features. “can’t it wait till we get back on the boat?”, “no.. please?” he continued to pout to you, searching your eyes for any sign of pity, and you decided to help your poor baby out a bit. the area you two set up was fairly secluded, with rock structures on either side, so nobody saw you lifting yourself up and sticking your hand down his shorts. you pulled out his semi hard cock hearing his breath hitch at the sensation of your cool hands against his warm skin, he sighed when you slid him between your thighs and finally sat back down. his hands wandered up to cup your breast and to hold your waist as he kissed your lips again. you gently started to move your hips, rubbing his length between your thighs. “Oh fuck..” he gasped at the movement leaving his jaw slightly ajar,and furrowing his brows. you reached out a hand to rub his tip that peaked out, spreading the pre-cum that beaded out at the top, the shea butter he massaged onto your legs that morning acting as lubricant for his cock to glide against your skin. “yes, d-dont stop- shit” he muttered under his breath, lightly grinding his hips to feel more. “take what you need baby!” You teased with a smile and a chuckle, watching as he leaned back onto his hand behind him to properly thrust his hips up and fuck your thighs. You dragged a nail over his abdomen, you other hand adjusting your sunglasses as you looked out to the ocean as your baby got his fix.
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(1k) loosely inspired by my waitressing experiences with chefs in walk-ins... requests open!
You're not entirely sure that anyone in that kitchen knows your name.
Like so many of the waitstaff at the Bear, the time spent in the kitchen was minimal- one in, one out, doors slamming shut, plate after plate after plate- with the constant back-and-forth between the chefs meaning not much conversation was possible. The server turnover ensured that friendships out front were hard to come by as well, especially with the full-timers having years of history between them, leaving you always just a little out of the loop.
Despite that, Richie seems to like you. At least, that's what you tell yourself, and ignore the fact that he might actually just be able to talk to anyone that he meets like he's known them for years, and seems to have zero sense of self-consciousness. The sense that you like him, however, has been diminishing over and over since he assigned you to do a stocktake forty minutes ago, leaving you crouched on the floor, head wedged into the mini-fridge under the coffee machine, trying to keep count of bottles and bottles of milk, their glinting foiled tops taunting you with their identicalness.
"You okay?"
You startle, rearing up on instinct, and ramming your head into the solid metal roof of the fridge, the thunk echoing around your head. You vaguely hear an oh, shit murmured behind you through the ringing, and feel hands pulling you out and up, leaving you blinking slowly at the head chef, who looks mildly panicked, and more than a little twitchy.
You exhale heavily, squeezing your eyes shut, and reach to the back of your head, groaning when a telltale wetness stains your fingertips. "Ow..." Your hand is pulled away, and you're gently turned around, your hair parted with careful fingers, and Carmen winces, hissing through his teeth. "Come on."
He leads the way to the kitchen, stopping by the office to grab a first aid kit, and heads to the walk-in fridge, encouraging you to sit as you start to sway. "Turn." You blink at him, a little taken aback by the order, the aggression in his voice, and his hands twitch again, fingers stretching and clenching together, arms goosebumped from the chill. "I- I'm sorry, fuck. Please could you turn." It's still more of a instruction than a question, but the ringing has drowned out any pushback you have in you, and once you're facing the heavy door, you feel tentative fingers dabbing at the cut, some Savlon smeared on.
You inhale when he presses too hard, and his touch retracts immediately, the hum of the fridge the only sound. He swallows, starting again, gentler this time, peeling off little strips of butterfly bandages that stripe across the wound. "It's only little." He murmurs, and you cough to clear your throat, unused to his way of speaking, the mystifying conciseness. "Hm?"
Carmen smooths over the bandages one more time, moving your hair back. "The cut. It's little. It seems to be a bleeder, but it's only little."
You go to face him, and his hand brushes your shoulder, reaching around you to grab a cold pack from the bottom shelf, hovering between passing it to you and holding it up to your head. "Do you want me to-" You nod, and he holds it up, leaving you face to face, cross legged. "Thanks. For fixing me up."
His eyebrows raise, then lower, blinking, the blue light of the fridge highlighting his stubble peeking through. "It's okay. I'm sorry for startling you." Your eyes fall to his dark hoodie covering his chef whites, then back up. "It's okay. Got me out of that fridge, so."
His head tilts. "Why were you in the fridge?"
"Stocktake."
He hums, nodding to himself. "Is that what you do when the rest of us are actually working? Counting milk?"
You can't help but bristle, already having felt sidelined by Richie with the job. "I'm sorry?" He stutters, and you pull back a little, taking the cold pack into your own hands, pressing it to the cut, staring holes into the sealed Cambro of sliced leeks to your left while he flusters. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah." Your voice is detached, and his fingers twist again, one hand squeezing the other, foot tapping. "I am. It- it was a joke. I'm not very good at them."
Your eyes flick up, the cold fridge light painting silver streaks in his hair. "You're not very good at jokes?"
He looks away then, the eye contact a little much for him. "No. Richie will tell you that. Actually, Richie'd just tell you that I am a joke, but that's a different story."
You watch him fidget, breathe through his nose, his eyes flicking to the door handle, and decide to let up. "Well, I don't know about the jokes, but you're not an awful nurse." He looks back, eyes quick. "No?" "No."
He nods to himself, fingers tapping against the chilled metal floor. "Well, you're not an awful waitress." Your brow quirks, head tilting- "When did we say I was an awful waitress-?" and he half-laughs, sheepish, a little exhale- "Okay, okay-"
You tilt your head, smiling. "You're lucky I'm even still here with your staff turnover, chef." His eyes widen, nodding, hand over his mouth as he laughs. "Ouch. Fuck, okay, wow."
Your tongue clicks. "Add workplace injury to that as well. You got a lawsuit on your hands." He sits back on his hands. "Shit. Guess I gotta find a lawyer."
"Isn't Sugar's husband a lawyer?"
His face scrunches at the mention of Pete, deflating. "Don't bring him up."
You smile, but startle again at loud banging on the fridge door, Richie hollering through. "Yo, cousin, are you stuck in there again or what? We got shit to do out here, man, come on, we don't got time for your fuckin' around-"
Carmen growls, stomping over, pulling the door open as you push yourself up. "Alright, alright, cousin, come on-! Stop fuckin' yelling like a prat-"
"Stop yelling like a prat- you stop yelling like a prat, cousin, I thought you were gonna have another fuckin' breakdown in there, shit-"
"Shut the fuck up, Richie-" You slide past the two of them, fingers jutting in each other's faces, and push the weighted kitchen doors to the main restaurant, the mini-fridge wide open, the foiled milk bottles glinting, ready and waiting for that stocktake. Fuck.
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