k.

a/n; hi sorry 4 hiatus.. i promise the jermajesty plug fic is on its way!! and so is the eddie one

tags; @ooooglymoooogly @skylar-g @sugrcookiiee @vict-oryy @mjsbabyyy

.ೀ 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩 .ᐟ ⊹ 𑣲 mature era! michael. divorced , just overly flith & freaky , 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲; 𝗺𝗮𝗺𝗮, 𝗱𝗮𝗱𝗱𝘆 & 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁. ⊹ (both) receiving.

JULY. 2007.

Michael shut the office door a little harder than he meant to.

ꔛ pairing — jermajesty jackson 𝓍 ƒ reader

೯ warning: smut and explicit language, pet names, voyeurism? no incest ( have to make that so clear omg )

— this was req by anon, they do not wish for their info to be disclosed.

೯ summary: jermajesty and his gf join his nosy brothers on vacation, meaning being intimate got a whole lot harder.

the vacation house was a sprawling modern retreat perched on a cliff overlooking the ocean, all glass walls and open decks. you'd been here three days, and the tension between you and jermajesty had been building like a slow tide. his brothers, jaafar and randy, were good company, always laughing, always teasing, but their presence meant no privacy during the day. at night, everyone retired to their own rooms, but the walls were thin. you'd already had to stifle your moans against his shoulder the first night, biting your lip raw.

tonight, you wanted more. you wanted to be heard, or at least, you wanted the thrill of almost being heard. jermajesty grinned when you whispered the plan in his ear after dinner. "you're a menace," he murmured, his hand sliding down to squeeze your thigh under the table. randy was across the room, scrolling through his phone, while jaafar was in the kitchen.

you excused yourselves to the master suite, claiming exhaustion. the moment the door clicked shut, jermajesty pushed you against it, his mouth hot on your neck. his hands were rough, needy, already tugging at the tie of your shorts. you let out a soft gasp as his fingers found your pussy through the fabric, pressing hard.

"fuck, you're already wet," he growled against your ear.

"been waiting all day," you breathed back, your own hands working to unbuckle his belt. his cock sprang free, thick and hard, and you wrapped your fingers around it, stroking once before he spun you around, bending you over the edge of the bed.

he didn't bother with your shorts, just yanked them down to your knees, then guided his cock to your entrance. no more teasing. he pushed in with a single, deep thrust, and you cried out, the sound loud in the quiet room. he clapped a hand over your mouth, his hips already pounding into you.

"shh, babe, walls are thin," he panted, but his rhythm was brutal, relentless. the slap of his thighs against your ass filled the room. your hands clawed at the duvet as he fucked you, each stroke hitting that perfect spot deep inside. you tried to muffle your moans, but they escaped through his fingers, high and breathy.

then you heard it. a door creaking open down the hall. soft footsteps. jermajesty didn't stop, if anything, he fucked you harder, his grip tightening on your hip. the bedroom door wasn't fully closed; a sliver of light from the hallway cut across the floor.

randy's voice, low and rough: "maj? you in there?"

jermajesty grunted, still thrusting. "busy, bro."

but randy didn't leave. the door pushed open wider. you turned your head, face half-buried in the pillows, and saw him leaning against the doorframe. his eyes were wide, fixed on where you and jermajesty were joined.

you moaned louder, deliberately, shamelessly, letting him hear every wet slide, every breathy gasp. jermajesty caught on, his pace quickening. he pulled his hand from your mouth and grabbed your hair instead, pulling your head back.

"yeah, let him hear," he rasped, his voice raw. "let him see how good you take it."

the sight of him watching, pushed you right to the edge. you came with a shuddering cry, your pussy clenching around jermajesty's cock. he followed a second later, burying himself deep, his cum hot and thick inside you. he stayed there, pulsing, while you both caught your breath.

randy finally spoke, his voice strained. "you two are fucking loud." but he didn't leave. he stayed, his hand now gripping his own hard-on through his jeans, his gaze still locked on the wet mess between your thighs.

from the hallway came another voice. jaafar, curious, he called out "what's going on in there?"

randy didn't answer. he just stepped forward, pushing the door fully open.

𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐓 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐉𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐣𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: thirty seven days after your breakup, jermajesty is already smiling beside someone new. as you both try to move forward, old memories, familiar faces, and unfinished feelings make one thing impossible to ignore, some people never really leave you, even after they're gone.

𝐖𝐜: 7,580

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐢𝐜, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐞𝐱𝐞𝐬, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐩, 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐜 😭

the first thing you noticed was that he stopped calling you “pretty.” not because he didn’t think you were. he still looked at you the same way whenever you walked into a room, his eyes lingering just a second longer than they should. he’d still absentmindedly fix the sleeve of your hoodie or brush lint off your shoulder before either of you realized what he was doing. it was everything else that changed.

the “good morning, pretty.” the random flowers he’d bring home after passing the little stand on the corner. the way he’d pull you into his lap while you cooked, despite you complaining that he was in the way.

those little things disappeared so slowly you didn’t notice until one day they were just… gone. you told yourself every relationship had phases. people got busy, life happened, love didn’t always look the same. that’s what you kept repeating to yourself as you stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, carefully smoothing your hair into a high bun before rubbing a little lip gloss across your lips. maybe tonight would feel normal again, maybe tonight he’d smile at you the way he used to.

you walked into the living room with cautious hope. jermajesty was sitting on the couch, elbows resting on his knees, his phone forgotten in his hands. the television played quietly in the background, but he wasn’t watching it. he looked tired, more than tired. like he’d been carrying something heavy for weeks. “you ready baby?” you asked softly. he looked up.

his eyes landed on you. for a split second… there it was. that look. the one that made you feel beautiful before you’d even gotten dressed. “yeah,” he answered. your smile faltered for half a heartbeat before you forced it back. “dinner reservation’s in twenty.” he nodded. “okay.”

the drive to the restaurant was almost unbearable. normally he’d have music blasting, one hand tapping the steering wheel while the other rested somewhere on your thigh, laughing at something completely random trying to get a smile on your face. tonight the radio stayed low. his hand never left the wheel. you watched the city lights blur past your window, your reflection staring back at you every few seconds. you wanted to ask him what was wrong. instead you asked, “how was work?” “busy.” “anything interesting happen?” “not really.” “oh.” silence settled between you again, you hated silence. especially this one. it felt like there were a thousand words trapped inside both of you, refusing to come out.

dinner should’ve been perfect. the restaurant overlooked the skyline, warm lights hanging above the outdoor patio while soft jazz floated through hidden speakers. it used to be your favorite place. the waiter complimented your emerald dress you wore, you thanked him with a smile. jermajesty looked up from the menu.

“you do look beautiful.” your heart squeezed. finally. “thank you.” for just a second, things felt normal. until they didn’t. the conversation never found its rhythm. every topic died after a sentence or two. you caught him staring out over the city more than once. he caught you staring at him. neither of you said anything.

later that night, you stood at the kitchen sink washing dishes while warm water ran over your hands. you heard the apartment door close. “you forgot your hoodie,” you called. no answer. you frowned. turning off the faucet, you dried your hands and walked into the living room. jermajesty hadn’t left. he was standing by the front door. still wearing his jacket. keys dangling from his fingers. he looked… terrified. your stomach dropped. “…maj?” he swallowed.

“can we talk?” four words. four painfully ordinary words. and somehow, they sounded like the end of the world. you tried to smile anyway. “you’re scaring me.”

he looked down at the hardwood floor. you’d never seen him avoid your eyes before. “i know.” the apartment suddenly felt too quiet, the refrigerator hummed.

cars passed outside. somewhere upstairs, a dog barked. everything in the world kept moving while yours stood perfectly still.

you stepped closer. “did something happen?” he closed his eyes for a second. then opened them. “i’ve been trying to figure out how to say this for weeks.” your chest tightened. weeks? while you were planning date nights. while you were sending him apartment listings with bigger kitchens. while you were secretly saving engagement rings on pinterest, pretending you weren’t. he’d already been deciding how to leave. “…say what?” his voice cracked. “i don’t think,” he stopped. tried again. “i don’t think we’re making each other happy anymore.” the sentence echoed through the apartment. you blinked once. twice. waiting for the punchline. waiting for him to laugh and tell you he was joking.

he didn’t. your lips parted. “what?” “we’ve been trying, baby.” baby. he hadn’t called you that in weeks. “don’t do that.” his eyebrows pulled together. “don’t call me ‘baby’ if you’re about to break my heart.” his face crumpled. you’d never seen jermajesty look so guilty. “i’m sorry.” “no.” your voice came out sharper than you intended. “no, explain it to me.” he rubbed both hands over his face. “every conversation turns into an argument.” “because we don’t communicate.” “i know.” “then fix it.” “i’ve tried.” “then try harder.” silence. your breathing became uneven. “is there somebody else?” his head snapped up immediately. “what? no.” “don’t lie to me.”

“i’m not.” “then why?” his eyes filled before yours did. “because i love you…” your heart broke at the word love” “and somehow we’re still hurting each other.” you stared at him. you wanted to disagree. to tell him he was wrong. that love was enough. that if two people loved each other, they could survive anything. but deep down, you knew exactly what he meant. the missed dinners. the little arguments that somehow lasted hours.

the nights spent sleeping inches apart without touching. you just never imagined those moments were adding up for him too. “so…” your voice barely existed anymore. “that’s it?” he couldn’t answer. because if he said yes, it would become real. you looked around the apartment. your apartment. the framed pictures from vacations. the blanket you both fought over every movie night. his shoes by the door. this place looked like a home. how could homes end in a single conversation?

he quietly walked toward the bedroom. when he came back, there was a duffel bag over his shoulder. your knees almost gave out. “you packed?” he nodded once. “when?” “a little at a time.” that hurt more than anything else. he hadn’t decided tonight. he’d been leaving you… piece by piece. you wanted to scream. you wanted to throw something. instead, you just stood there. watching the man you loved pick up his overnight bag like he wasn’t carrying your future inside it. he stopped in front of you. close enough that you could smell the cologne you’d bought him for his birthday. close enough that if either of you leaned forward an inch, you’d be in each other’s arms.

he reached toward your face. hesitated. then let his hand fall back to his side. “i really am sorry.” a tear slipped down your cheek. you didn’t wipe it away. “me too.” he nodded once. opened the front door. and walked out. the click of the lock was almost gentle. you stood there for what felt like hours, staring at the door, waiting for footsteps to come back down the hallway. waiting for another knock. waiting for him to realize he’d made a mistake. nothing came. the apartment was finally as quiet as it had felt for weeks.

except now, you were the only one left to hear it.

thirty seven days. that's how long it'd been since jermajesty walked out of the apartment. thirty seven days since you heard his laugh echo through the kitchen. thirty seven days since you woke up beside him. thirty seven days since you became someone who checked the other side of the bed before remembering there was no one there anymore. you'd stopped crying every day. that had to count for something. now it was every few days. progress. or whatever people called surviving.

"girl, if you don't answer this phone..." genevieve’s voice came through your voicemail for what had to be the fourth time that week. "i know you've been dodging everybody, but i'm not letting you disappear. i'm coming over tomorrow, and if you don't answer the door, i'm using the spare key." the message ended. you smiled despite yourself.

she had always been like a big sister to you. she'd checked on you almost every day since the breakup. so had jaafar. the apartment didn't look like yours anymore. or maybe.. it looked too much like both of yours. his favorite mug still sat in the cabinet. his hoodie was still draped over the back of the dining chair. you'd told yourself you were keeping it there until you figured out what to do with it. instead, you walked past it every morning. and every morning, your fingers brushed against the sleeve. just for a second.

just enough to pretend he was still here. "baby?" you froze. your own voice echoed back at you from the apartment walls. you'd done it again. sometimes, without thinking, you'd call out to him after getting home from work. the silence that answered every time never got easier. you let out a shaky laugh. "get your shit it together."

your saturday started like every other one. laundry, grocery shopping, cleaning, trying not to think too much. you tied your hair up, before grabbing your tote bag and heading to the grocery store. halfway through the cereal aisle... your hand automatically reached for cinnamon toast crunch. you frowned. jermajesty didn't even live here anymore. he wasn't coming over tomorrow morning asking why you bought "the healthy cereal."

he wasn't going to stand behind you in the kitchen stealing handfuls straight from the box while you complained. you slowly put it back on the shelf. kept walking. until you turned around. picked it back up. and placed it in your cart anyway. your eyes burned. "damn."

by the time you got home, your phone battery was hanging on by a thread. you dropped your grocery bags onto the counter before plugging your phone into the charger. the screen lit up, a flood of notifications appeared. mostly work. a few texts. none from your sister. and then, jaafar jackson tagged jermajesty in a post. your stomach dropped. you shouldn't. you knew you shouldn't. you'd promised yourself. you'd muted his account. deleted your shortcuts.

avoided searching his name. because healing meant not looking. right? your thumb hovered over the notification. just one look. that's all. one look couldn't hurt. you tapped it. it was a carousel of pictures. the first was jaafar, the second was a random sky picture, the third... your breath caught. jermajesty. he stood outside a restaurant you'd been begging him to try for months. his arm rested casually around a girl you'd never seen before. she was beautiful.rich brown skin. soft curls framing her face. she leaned into him naturally, like she'd done it a hundred times before. they both smiled at the camera. your chest tightened. swipe. another picture.

this time she was laughing. his head was turned toward her. looking at her. the smile on his face... you knew that smile. you'd spent years learning every version of it. the shy one. the sarcastic one. the teasing one. the one he only wore when he looked at someone he cared about. your thumb started shaking. swipe. the last picture. they weren't kissing. they weren't holding hands. but she was fixing the collar of his jacket. and he was looking down at her with that same soft expression he'd worn the first time he'd told you he loved you. your vision blurred. you quickly locked your phone. like closing the screen could erase what you'd just seen. it couldn't. because now it lived in your head.

you slid down the kitchen cabinets until you were sitting on the floor. the grocery bags sat forgotten on the counter. ice cream slowly melted, milk grew warm. you couldn't move.

your phone buzzed. once. twice. three times. you ignored it, then it buzzed again.

genevieve 🤍

hey, are you okay?

another message.

i know you probably saw the pictures.

another.

please don't be alone right now.

your lip trembled.

so... everybody knew. everybody had already seen them. you set your phone face down. pulled your knees to your chest. and cried harder than you had the night he left. because the breakup, that had been full of possibilities. maybe he'd call or maybe he'd change his mind. maybe six months from now, you'd find your way back to each other. but those pictures, those pictures felt final. for the first time in thirty seven days... it wasn't the breakup that hurt the most. it was realizing the world had kept spinning

and somehow, jermajesty had learned how to smile again. without you.

your apartment smelled like vanilla candles. genevieve always lit one whenever she came over. she claimed it made the place feel "less sad." you never told her the sadness wasn't in the apartment. it was in you. "and i'm just saying," she continued, carrying two mugs of hot chocolate into the living room, "if one more person on tiktok tells me to 'romanticize my life,' i'm deleting the app." you let out the smallest laugh. "see?" she pointed at you dramatically. "there she is." "don't get used to it." "too late." she handed you one of the mugs before plopping onto the couch beside you. for a while, neither of you said anything.

the television played quietly in the background. some random reality show neither of you were paying attention to. genevieve glanced over. "you haven't been sleeping." it wasn't a question. you looked down into your mug. "you can tell?" "i'm kidding." you rolled your eyes. "that wasn't funny." "a little." you shook your head, smiling despite yourself. the smile disappeared almost as quickly as it came. genevieve noticed. she always did, "you saw the pictures." your fingers tightened around the mug. "yeah." she sighed. "i figured."

another silence settled between you. different from the ones you'd shared with jermajesty. this one wasn't uncomfortable. it was just... heavy. "i almost called you," genevieve admitted quietly. "why didn't you?" "because i didn't know what to say." you nodded. "me neither." "can i ask you something?" you shrugged. "sure." "are you mad at us?" your eyebrows pulled together. "what?" "my family." she looked nervous now. "because... you haven't really come around since..." she couldn't finish the sentence. since the breakup. you reached over, resting your hand on hers. "gen."

she looked at you. "none of this is your fault." "i know.” "or your mom,"!she nodded. "or anybody else's." "i know." "i just..." you looked around the apartment before your eyes landed on the framed picture sitting on the bookshelf. it was from christmas. you and jermajesty stood in the middle, surrounded by his family. genevieve had insisted everyone wear matching pajamas. randy jr. had complained the entire night. jaafar had almost burned the cookies. alejandra cried because she said everyone looked beautiful.

you remembered laughing so hard your stomach hurt. back then... it never crossed your mind that one day you'd be looking at that picture like it belonged to somebody else. "it's hard," you whispered. genevieve followed your gaze. "you're family." the words came out so naturally. like there wasn't another option, "you've always been family."

your throat tightened. "was." she immediately shook her head. "are." you looked away before she could see your eyes fill with tears. that evening, after genevieve left, you found yourself standing in front of the hallway closet. there, tucked behind a stack of blankets... was a cardboard box. jermajesty's things. you'd packed them almost two weeks ago. his hoodie, a few books, his favorite controller. a watch he'd accidentally left in the bathroom. you crouched in front of the box, lifting the hoodie to your face. it barely smelled like him anymore. just laundry detergent. time had washed him away. you folded it carefully and placed it back inside. closed the lid. but you couldn't bring yourself to tape the box shut.

doing that... felt too permanent. your phone rang just after seven. alejandra. your stomach flipped. for a second, you considered letting it go to voicemail. instead, you answered. "hello?" "mi amor." her voice was as warm as ever. "hi." "how are you feeling?" you smiled sadly, "i've been better."

"genevieve told me she came to see you." "she did.” “good." there was a brief pause. then... "listen, sweetheart... i'm calling because your cousin's birthday dinner is next weekend." you blinked. "oh." "everyone's coming." you already knew what she was about to ask. "i know things have been... difficult." an understatement. "but i wanted you to hear this from me." your grip tightened on the phone. "you don't stop being family because a relationship ended." your eyes immediately filled. "alejandra..." "i mean that." her voice softened. "those doors have always been open for you, and they'll stay open for you." a tear slid down your cheek.

"thank you." "so..." she waited patiently. "will you come?" you closed your eyes. every instinct told you no it would hurt. it would be so awkward. what if he was there? what if he wasn't? somehow... both possibilities terrified you. "i don't know." "that's okay." alejandra didn't push. "think about it." you nodded even though she couldn't see you. "okay." after you hung up, you stared at the dark screen of your phone. your heart and your head were already arguing. don't go. it's too soon.

you'll only make things harder. but another voice whispered something quieter. what if you lose them too? because losing jermajesty had already shattered you. you weren't sure you could survive losing the family that had loved you like their own for years. you sat your phone on the coffee table and looked around the apartment. for the first time since the breakup... home didn't feel like the place you'd built with him. it felt like the place you'd been hiding from the rest of your life.

and maybe sooner or later, you were going to have to open the front door.

you changed your outfit three times. the black dress felt too formal. the jeans felt like you weren’t trying. the green sundress reminded you too much of the one jermajesty said made you look “like summertime.” that one was immediately thrown back into the closet. in the end, you settled on a simple chocolate brown maxi dress that hugged your figure just enough without feeling like you were trying to impress anybody. because you weren’t.

at least… that’s what you kept telling yourself. you stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the gold hoops in your ears before fluffing out the ends of your hair. “you got this,” you whispered. your reflection didn’t look convinced. the drive to alejandra’s house felt longer than usual. every red light gave you another opportunity to turn around. you almost did.

twice. instead, you pulled into the driveway you’d visited hundreds of times before. nothing had changed. for a second, it almost felt like you were coming home. you hated how comforting that feeling still was. before you could lose your nerve, the front door flew open. “she’s here!” genevieve practically ran down the porch steps before wrapping you in a hug so tight you laughed. “girl, let me breathe.”

“no.” she squeezed harder. “i missed you.” your smile softened. “i missed you too.” when she finally let go, she grabbed your hand and pulled you inside. “everybody’s been waiting.” the familiar scent of seasoned food and candles wrapped around you instantly. music played softly from the kitchen. laughter echoed through the house. for the first time in over a month, your heart didn’t feel quite as heavy. “look who decided to show up,” randy jr. called from the living room. you rolled your eyes. “missed me?” “a little.”

“a little?” “don’t push it.” you laughed. “a hater.” “a proud one.” jaafar stood from the couch and pulled you into a hug. “it’s good to see you.” “it’s good to see you too.” he held your shoulders for a second before looking you over. “you look good.” “thank you.” “you eating?” “trying.” he nodded. he understood what you weren’t saying. you appreciated that he didn’t ask any more questions.

“baby!”you turned just in time for alejandra to pull you into one of her signature hugs. the kind that made you feel like all the broken pieces of you could fit back together again. “look at you.” she cupped your face. “you’re beautiful.” you smiled through the lump in your throat. “thank you.” she kissed your forehead. “i’m so happy you came.” “me too.” and surprisingly, you meant it. the evening slipped by easier than you’d expected. you helped alejandra finish the macaroni. genevieve convinced you to help decorate the cake. randy jr. challenged you to a game you beat him at. twice. “you cheated.” “i literally didn’t.” “there’s no way i lost fair and square.” “maybe you’re just bad.” gasps filled the room. “she got jokes!” you laughed harder than you had in weeks. real laughter, for the first time since the breakup. you forgot to miss him.

until, the front door opened. you barely noticed at first. someone had just asked you if you wanted another slice of cake. voices drifted in from the foyer. male laughter, a familiar laughter. your body reacted before your mind did. your smile slowly faded. genevieve noticed. her eyes flickered toward the hallway. then back to you. something unreadable crossed her face. you frowned. before you could ask what was wrong, you heard his voice.

“my bad, traffic was crazy.” your heartbeat stopped. no. you weren’t ready. he stepped into the living room. jermajesty. he looked almost exactly the same. same chain resting against his chest. same curls tucked beneath a fitted cap. same cologne. even from across the room, you could swear you smelled it. his eyes found yours immediately. everything else disappeared.

the conversations, the music, the decorations. it was just the two of you. standing there. looking at each other for the first time in thirty eight days. his expression shifted, surprise. then something softer. something that looked dangerously close to regret. your lips parted, but no words came out. he looked like he wanted to say your name. instead,

someone gently touched his arm. your eyes dropped. she stepped into view. the girl from the pictures. except somehow, she was even prettier in person. her complexion glowed beneath the warm lights. a soft smile rested on her lips as she looked around the room, clearly a little nervous. she moved closer to jermajesty without thinking. like it was comfortable for her, like she belonged beside him. your chest caved in. you couldn’t breathe. he glanced at her. then back at you. the guilt on his face was almost unbearable. you realized something then. those pictures hadn’t lied. this wasn’t rumors. this wasn’t social media making something look bigger than it was. she was here.

in this house. meeting the people you’d spent years calling family. the room suddenly felt too small. too loud, too hot. you forced your feet to move before anyone could stop you. “excuse me.” your voice barely came out above a whisper. you weren’t sure who you were talking to. maybe everyone. maybe no one. you walked past them. close enough that his shoulder almost brushed yours. close enough to hear him inhale sharply. close enough that, for one impossible second, you wanted him to reach for your hand. he didn’t. that hurt even more. by the time the bathroom door clicked shut behind you, your hands were shaking so badly you could barely lock it.

you stared at yourself in the mirror. mascara untouched. lip gloss still perfect. from the outside… you looked perfectly fine, inside you felt like you were standing in the exact spot where your heart had broken thirty eight days ago. only this time… you had an audience.

the bathroom felt smaller with every shaky breath you took. you gripped the edge of the sink until your knuckles turned pale. "come on," you whispered to your reflection. "not here." your voice cracked anyway. you splashed cool water across your face, careful not to ruin your makeup. you refused to walk out looking like you'd been crying over a man who wasn't yours anymore. even if you had. there was a soft knock at the door. "baby?" alejandra. you quickly wiped beneath your eyes. "one second." you unlocked the door just enough to peek through. alejandra's face immediately softened. "oh, sweetheart..." you looked away. "i'm okay." she didn't believe you. neither of you did.

without a word, she wrapped her arms around you. you melted into the hug before you could stop yourself. "i didn't know," she whispered. your eyebrows pulled together. "what?" her voice was full of guilt. "i didn't know he was bringing someone." you closed your eyes. you believed her. if she'd known... she would've warned you. "it's okay." it wasn't. but you couldn't blame her. she sighed against your hair. "you don't have to stay." you thought about it. you could leave. get in your car, go home. curl up beneath the blanket that still smelled faintly like him. pretend tonight never happened. instead, you shook your head.

"it's her first time meeting everybody." alejandra looked confused. you swallowed the lump in your throat. "i don't want her first impression of this family to be me running out because i couldn't handle seeing them together." your words surprised even you. alejandra reached up and cupped your cheek. "you've always had such a beautiful heart." you gave her the saddest smile you'd ever worn. "i wish it hurt less." when you walked back into the dining room, the conversations slowed for just a moment.

not because anyone pitied you. because everyone was worried. you offered you a reassuring smile. it was convincing enough. people slowly returned to their conversations. you slid into an empty chair beside genevieve. across the table, jermajesty sat with her. her name, you'd learned only a few minutes ago, was naomi. she laughed quietly at something randy jr. said. "i promise i'm not usually this nervous." "that's a lie," genevieve teased from beside you. "he gets nervous introducing anybody to us." the table laughed. even you smiled. naomi covered her face. "please don't expose me.

jermajesty chuckled. "too late." your chest tightened. his laugh hadn't changed. it still sounded like home. dinner carried on. plates were passed around. stories were shared. jaafar somehow found a way to make everyone laugh until they nearly cried. from the outside... it looked like any other family dinner. but every now and then, you caught jermajesty looking at you. not long. for just a second. like he was checking to make sure you were still there.

every time your eyes met, he looked away first. "jer." naomi nudged him gently, "hmm?" "you okay?" he blinked. "yeah." "you've been quiet.” "just tired." she accepted the answer. you didn't. because you knew him. he rubbed the back of his neck whenever he lied. he'd done it three times since you'd sat back down.

later, while everyone helped clean up, you slipped outside onto the back patio. the summer air was warm against your skin. you welcomed it. anything to escape the weight inside the house. you leaned against the porch railing, looking out over the backyard. so many memories lived here. cookouts, birthday parties, water balloon fights. late night conversations that lasted until sunrise. you wondered if places remembered people. if the porch missed you the way you missed him. the sliding door opened behind you. you didn't turn around. you already knew. "can we talk?" his voice was quiet. like speaking too loudly might shatter whatever fragile peace still existed between you. you let out a small laugh.

"haven't we done enough of that?" he stopped a few feet away. giving you space. space you suddenly hated. “i'm sorry." you stared out at the yard. "for what?" "for tonight." "which part?" the question hung in the air. he didn't answer. because there were too many parts. you finally looked at him. he looked exhausted. there were dark circles beneath his eyes. his curls were messier than usual, like he'd run his hands through them all evening. for the first time, he didn't look like a man who had happily moved on. he looked like someone carrying the consequences of his own choices. "i didn't know my mom invited you." you nodded once.

"i figured." "if i had known—" "what?" your voice wasn't angry. just tired. "you wouldn't have brought her?" he opened his mouth. closed it. because he didn't know. and maybe that was answer enough. you looked down at your hands. "she's beautiful." he frowned. you continued before he could interrupt. "she seems sweet. "she is."

your heart cracked quietly. "that's good." another silence. this one stretched longer than either of you wanted. finally, he spoke. "how've you been?" you almost laughed. thirty eight days. one breakup. a hundred unanswered questions. and all he could ask was, how've you been? you looked him in the eyes. "honestly?" he nodded. "i've been learning how to stop reaching for you." his entire face fell. you kept going. "every morning." you smiled sadly. "it's harder than i thought it'd be." he looked away. you noticed his jaw tighten.

his eyes glistened beneath the porch light. for a second, he looked like he wanted to say something. something important. instead, the sliding door opened again. "there you are." naomi stepped onto the patio with an apologetic smile. "i've been looking everywhere." the moment disappeared. jermajesty cleared his throat,

"hey." she looked between the two of you, sensing she'd interrupted something she couldn't name. "alejandra wanted to know if you guys wanted dessert." you stepped back immediately. "you two should go." jermajesty didn't move. you forced a smile. "go." naomi reached for his hand without thinking. he let her. your eyes dropped to their intertwined fingers. just for a second. then you looked away. he noticed. of course he did. you could feel him noticing. but neither of you said anything. because there was nothing left to say. you watched them walk back toward the house together. right before he stepped inside, jermajesty glanced over his shoulder. you were still standing exactly where he'd left you. and for the first time since the breakup, he realized something that made his chest ache moving on hadn't erased you. it had only taught him how impossible you were to leave behind.

jermajesty had always hated silence. he used to fill it with music. bad jokes. random conversations that started with "you know what i was thinking?" now... he just drove. the radio stayed off. naomi at in the passenger seat, scrolling through playlists on her phone. "you've been quiet all night."

he glanced over. "sorry." "don't apologize." she smiled gently. "i was just making sure you weren't mad at me." his eyebrows pulled together. "why would i be mad at you?" she shrugged. "i don't know." he reached over and squeezed her hand "I'm not." and he meant it. none of this was naomi's fault. she hadn't stolen him. she hadn't broken anybody apart. she'd simply walked into his life when he was lonely enough to convince himself loneliness and healing were the same thing.

after dropping her off, he sat in his car for another twenty minutes. he couldn't make himself drive home. his phone buzzed. genevieve. he answered. "what?" "don't 'what' me." he sighed. "i'm tired." "so is she." his grip tightened around the steering wheel. "is she okay?" genevieve laughed once. not because anything was funny. because she couldn't believe he'd asked. "you don't get to ask me that." he closed his eyes. "i know."

"you watched her cry in our mother's bathroom tonight." every word landed like a punch. "i know." "you watched her smile through dinner so nobody would feel uncomfortable." "i know." "and you still asked me if she's okay." he didn't answer. because there wasn't one. genevieve's voice softened. "jer..." "yeah?" "are you?" his throat tightened. he looked through the windshield at nothing. "i don't know anymore." his apartment was cold. not because the air conditioning was too high. because no one lived there except him. he tossed his keys onto the counter before opening the refrigerator. orange juice, eggs, leftover takeout. he frowned. "damn." she would've gone grocery shopping by now. the thought came without permission. he shut the refrigerator a little harder than he meant to.

he tried making coffee the next morning. he reached into the cabinet. paused. there were two mugs. one black. one deep brown with tiny gold speckles. hers. she'd accidentally left it months ago. he'd washed it. put it away. never returned it. his hand hovered over it before pulling back. he grabbed the black mug instead. the coffee tasted wrong.

"bro." jaafar leaned against the gym wall, towel draped around his neck. "you've missed every shot for the last five minutes." jermajesty blinked. "my bad." "you wanna tell me what's going on?" "nothing." "liar." he bounced the basketball once before passing it over. jermajesty caught it automatically.

jaafar watched him carefully. "you still love her." the ball slipped through jermajesty's hands. it rolled across the court. he didn't chase it. "i never stopped." the words echoed louder than he expected. jaafar didn't look surprised. he just looked sad. "then why'd you leave?"jermajesty laughed bitterly. "because loving somebody isn't always enough." he rubbed both hands over his face.

"every conversation became an argument." "i know." "she deserved better than the version of me i kept becoming." "did leaving fix that?" he stared at the floor. "no." "then what did it fix?" nothing. it fixed nothing. he still looked for her in crowded rooms, still reached for his phone whenever something funny happened. still almost sent her videos before remembering. still expected to hear her singing while she cooked. still couldn't drive past the little diner where she'd stolen fries off his plate every friday night. he'd left. but somehow, she'd come with him.

that night, naomi invited him over for dinner. she greeted him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "i tried making your favorite pasta." his heart sank. it wasn't her fault. she couldn't have known, you had always made that recipe. he smiled anyway. "thank you."

they sat together. talked. laughed. she told him about work. he listened. he really did. then she asked a simple question. "do you want parmesan?" he almost answered without thinking. "only if you already put it on mine." silence. naomi frowned. "what?" his stomach dropped. that wasn't something he'd ever said to her. that was something he'd said to you. every single time you cooked. because you'd always forget to sprinkle cheese on his plate first. he set his fork down. "I'm sorry." she looked at him for a long time. too long. finally she whispered,

"you're still in love with her." it wasn't a question. he couldn't lie. not to her. not anymore. tears filled her eyes before his did. she nodded slowly. almost like she'd been preparing herself for the answer. "i kept wondering why it always felt like there was someone else sitting at this table." his heart shattered. because she deserved so much better than being compared to a memory.

"naomi..." she held up her hand. "don't." a tear slipped down her cheek. "you've been so kind to me.” another tear. "but i've been competing with someone who isn't even here." he covered his face. "I'm so sorry." she smiled through her tears. "i know." she reached across the table and squeezed his hand one last time. "i hope one day you find your way back to each other." he looked at her. for the first time in weeks... he realized what made him cry. it wasn't hope. it was knowing she'd said one day. and deep down,

he believed that day had already passed. some loves don't end because they disappear. they end because life keeps moving while two people stand still. and no matter how much they still loved each other... they had already become memories.

one year later.

people liked to say time healed everything. you’d learned that wasn’t true. time didn’t heal. it softened. the memories didn’t disappear. they just stopped knocking the air out of your lungs every time they showed up. instead of crying when you heard his favorite song… you smiled.

instead of avoiding the restaurant where you’d had your first date, you walked inside. ordered dessert. left a good tip. kept living. because eventually, you had to.

your apartment looked different now. warmer. plants sat on the windowsill. your walls held new pictures. new memories. new versions of yourself. you’d finally donated the hoodie. returned the box of his things months ago. you even bought a new coffee mug after accidentally reaching for his one too many times. life had moved. so had you. just, not in the way you’d imagined. “excuse me.” you looked up from the shelf of books. a familiar hand reached for the same novel you were holding. your heart stopped. slowly… your eyes traveled upward same curls. same warm brown eyes. same chain resting against his chest. older. little more tired around the eyes. but still, him. jermajesty froze. “hey.”

it had been a year, and somehow… he still said your name the same way. like it was something precious. “hey.” the word barely left your lips. for a second, neither of you moved. the bookstore buzzed quietly around you. pages turned. people talked. someone laughed near the front counter. the world kept going, just like it had the day you’d watched him walk out of your apartment. just like it had the day you’d watched him walk in holding someone else’s hand. and now… it kept going while the two of you stood face to face for the first time in almost a year.

“you look…” he smiled. “good.” you laughed quietly. “you too.” he rubbed the back of his neck. you almost smiled. some habits never changed. “how’ve you been?” this time, the question felt different. you thought about answering automatically. good. fine. can’t complain.

instead, you told the truth. “i’m happy.” his eyes softened. “that’s good.” “yeah.” you nodded. “it took a while.” “i know.” you believed him. because healing wasn’t something you could fake. and looking at him now, he looked like someone who had done the work. you wandered through the bookstore together. not because either of you planned to. because neither of you seemed ready to say goodbye. you talked about work. about genevieve. about jaafar finally learning how to cook without burning something. you laughed. real laughter. the kind that wasn’t weighed down by grief anymore. it almost felt, easy. almost. until he stopped walking.

“naomi and i broke up.” you looked at him. he wasn’t searching your face for a reaction. he was simply telling you the truth. “I’m sorry.” he nodded. “she deserved somebody who wasn’t trying to outrun his past.” you looked down. “she seemed like a really sweet girl.” “she is.” there wasn’t bitterness in his voice. only respect. “I hope she’s happy.” “I do too.”

you reached the front of the store. the afternoon sun spilled through the windows. your cars sat in opposite directions of the parking lot. funny. even now, life was asking you to choose separate paths. he looked at you. “can i tell you something?” you nodded. “I still think about you.” there it was. the sentence you’d imagined hearing a thousand different ways. a year ago… it would’ve been enough to send you running back into his arms. today, it simply made your eyes water. “I know.” he smiled sadly.

“how?” you looked out at the parking lot. “because i still think about you too.” silence settled between you.mnot uncomfortable, not painful, just honest. “i used to hope you’d think about me every time you held someone else.” you admitted it with a small laugh through your tears.

“I know.” “i wanted it to hurt.” “it did.” his voice cracked. “every day.” you finally looked at him. there was no pride in hearing those words. no satisfaction. only heartbreak. because if he had suffered, then neither of you had won. “I don’t want that anymore.” you whispered. “I don’t either.” another silence. gentler this time. “I don’t think we were a mistake.”

he said. your eyes filled again. “no.” you smiled. “i think we were just… early.” his lips trembled into the smallest smile. “maybe.” you stepped closer. without thinking, you wrapped your arms around him. he hugged you back immediately. the embrace felt familiar. safe. like coming home to a house that no longer belonged to you. when you pulled away, neither of you rushed to let go. “thank you.” he frowned.

“for what?” “for loving me the best way you knew how.” his eyes closed. “i’m sorry it wasn’t enough.” “It was.” you shook your head gently. “It just wasn’t enough forever.” he swallowed hard. “i’ll always be rooting for you.” you smiled. “i know.” he laughed softly. “how do you keep doing that?” “because i know you.” he looked at you for a long moment. then nodded once. “yeah.” you both glanced toward the parking lot. time to leave. this time, neither of you waited for the other to walk away first. you’d already learned how painful that was. “take care of yourself, jer.” “you too.” you turned. took a few steps. then stopped. not because you wanted to go back. because there was one last thing you needed him to know. without looking over your shoulder, you spoke.

“i hope she makes you smile one day.” he stood quietly behind you. then answered with a voice so soft the wind almost carried it away. “she already did.”