LOADED GUN.

It wasn't that she was pushing or even hoping that they'd sell, but on the off chance, she figured that a conversation was warranted and it could all be done with a simple no. But the money it would cost to buy such a piece of land was life changing and she felt that the Parkers deserved to have a restful life if they chose to go that route.

"Not just your land but there was interest when I showed them the pieces of land in town." She'd shared the largest pieces of land in town, owned or not, because the kind of money that was being offered could convince someone to re-think how much their lifestyle was worth.

"It's a lot of money. The type of money that can buy up a lot but they want land and there isn't much of that here that isn't already owned."

Her eyes rolled as she swatted a foot out in the hopes of kicking him, though she had no intent to actually let it land. "Shut up. You've become worse of a pain in the ass in your old age, you know."

They'd always had a teasing and good relationship which is why she felt comfortable around him. While he hadn't come out and said it, she felt like he approved of what she had with Wes when they were younger and it meant something to her even if a lot of time had passed since then.

She fell silent momentarily, feeling the guilt gnaw at her. "I wanted to come back when it happened but I didn't know if I should, or even could. He told me he expected that we wouldn't even talk when I came back." They'd run into one another and it seemed like that kept happening now. "It's weird how time changes things."

A fight between family wasn't new. Especially if she thought about her own so she didn't push too much on their fight, only nodding her head in understanding.

— time jump — 

Selin wondered what excuse could make leaving your child a plausible thought. She'd never understood that, even less now that Leyla had a daughter and the love she had for her niece. Then to leave your own child? That seemed unfathomable. "So you don't believe it or you're just not sure how to process it because it makes her leaving less.... unthinkable?"

Perhaps he was fighting with how to forgive her after so many years of thinking and imagining the worse.

"I mean your feelings are valid. You're allowed to be angry because it wasn't just leaving but it was the way she left. No note, no explanation, right?" The question and torture of the unknown was a betrayal all its own.

She nodded her head and extended her hand so it fell upon his forearm, squeezing it. "You're not going to figure it out tonight or in a week. Just be careful with your heart and Elijah's. You can't control that she left but you can control what happens now."

"But if you want my advice. I'd keep her at an arms length. I'm a bitch and stubborn though, so maybe you shouldn't be taking my advice."

The kind of money she was talking though... Shane could imagine what that would do for his mom, what it would do for his siblings, what it would do for Elijah, hell, what it would do for him. He walked along in silence for a while, mulling it over versus the impact it would have on his family emotionally. He clenched and unclenched the reins he held in his hands over and over as he considered, until he noticed Jelly Bean picking up on the energy shift and he relaxed his hands. Silver Creek was their home. But was keeping it worth all the hardship it entailed?

With feigned casualness that he definitely didn't feel, he glanced briefly up at her and said, "Well, if they're serious, let me know what they're offerin' and I'll take a look." No promises, no guarantees, but Shane needed to know what kind of numbers they were talking before he decided if he'd give this suggestion any more airtime.

At her comment, he let out a snort of laughter, making a show of dodging her kick even though he didn't really need to. "Hey now! You sure you wanna incapacitate the person currently gettin' you home safe and sound?" As if she was in any sort of danger.

But he sobered at her explanation. "Maybe it woulda helped, maybe it wouldn'tve, but Selin, you know us Parker men aren't so great at talkin' about our feelings." he offered, reaching out to give her foot a reassuring squeeze. "If it were up to me, I would guess that Wes just wanted to bury his head in the sand back then." He and his brother were a lot more similar than they'd ever admit. "But you're here now, and that's what's important."

— time jump — 

His eyes flew up to hers for a second, shocked at just how spot on she'd read the situation. "Would you stop readin' me like a damn book, Selin?" he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he let out a dry chuckle. “But the more she talks, the more I start to see… maybe she really thought leaving was the only way. Maybe she believed it’d protect Elijah somehow. Doesn’t make it right. Doesn’t erase the years she missed. But I guess I can understand being desperate enough to make the wrong call.”

His shoulders sagged, the fight bleeding out of him. “Doesn’t feel like it. Feels like everything’s happening to us and we don’t have much say in the matter, you know?” He let out a sigh before glancing over at her, the beginnings of an appreciative smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll take your advice any day. Stubborn is as stubborn does, right?”

He lifted his glass in a quiet toast, the unspoken gratitude clear in the warmth of his smile.

"I wouldn't say reconnected fast. It's still a search for the both of us." The same - and even more - it would be for him right now. And the fact that she had kept in contact with Sonny, had helped for Livia as well. But she could not tell him that. Clearly. And the fact that their relationships with Sonny were just completely different as well. Yes, it was a search for them, but at the same time... it was as if things hadn't changed at all.

Livia raised her eyebrows at the news that her friend had scared off at his date. That was something that had not been talked about yet. "Okay, that's not nice. Also. Who was that date with? Were you ready to start dating again before she turned up?"

"Just a parent of one of Eli's friends who's been on my case for a while, so I finally caved." With a roll of his eyes, Shane made it apparent just how invested he had been in that date. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he sighed, "Needless to say, I won't be tryin' my hand at the dating pool again anytime soon."

Listening to her words, he reached up and yanked a frustrated hand down his face. "I dunno, Liv... Everyone keeps saying she'll tell me in her own time, but... she's the one who left. She's the one who got to decide when to walk away on her own time. Can't somethin' be on my time, for once?" It was probably the most emotionally honest thing he'd said about the whole situation in a while.

Sonny walks alongside him, letting him guide her to wherever it is they were going, the weight of his words pressing heavy against her spine as they go. But, she doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t rush to fill the silence either. She just lets it hang there for a moment—lets it sting. Because he’s right. The story doesn’t make sense. Not on the surface, anyway.

She exhales slowly through her nose, her gaze tracing the horizon where the hills meet the sky. The breeze pulls at the hem of her jacket, but she barely feels it.

“It’s not supposed to make sense,” she says finally, her voice low. “That’s the point. The people I was raised around, the same ones I've been running from to protect you, both of you—men like my father—they operate in the shadows. They twist truths until you can’t tell what’s real and what’s just a lie you’ve heard too many times to question.” She realizes, even in the moment, that what she's saying still sounds so cryptic. Sonny's used to dancing around truths, evading the ugliest parts of her world in favor of what looks and sounds prettier. But, if she ever wants to fix this, fix them, she can't do that anymore. Something's gotta give. And, sometimes you have to lose something to gain something even greater.

Her jaw tightens. She hesitates, then looks at Shane—not directly, but enough to catch his profile in the corner of her vision. “You never met my family. Despite the fact that, I've met yours. And although, you never questioned it, there was a reason for that." There's a pause, before she continues. "Of course, you know my mom passed away shortly after I was born. So, I never had one..." At least, that's the story, she was always led to believe. But given who her father was, she wouldn't be surprised if that was total bullshit. "And my father, well...." It was difficult talking about Elio. Sonny could already feel herself breaking out into hives at the mere mention. He was her Voldemort. Always would be. "You don't know who he is, what he’s capable of. What kind of things he’s willing to do to remind the people who work for him, they don’t get to walk away freely. Myself, included." There's another brief pause as she tries to suppress the shaking of her own hands. "I did though. I walked away from him shortly after we met and I knew the cost of that, would come for me eventually.”

She swallows, voice shaking faintly despite her best efforts to steady it. “That's who, I'm protecting you from, Shane. My father. Eli's grandfather." There's a beat as she sneaks a quiet glance his way to gauge his reaction. "I left because I knew staying would’ve meant dragging you and Eli into something you never agreed to. My father… he doesn’t just control people—he owns them. And when he found out I was with someone like you—someone good, someone wholesome—he did everything in his power to break that apart. Because, my being with you was never a part of his plan for me.”

There’s a pause as she shifts her gaze to the path ahead. The house is coming into view now, but she doesn’t fully see it yet. “I tried to cut him off, Shane. Many times. But the more I tried, the harder he pressed in on all sides. Nothing’s ever really clean with him. You're either in or you're out. And, I wanted out. I just wanted to live a normal, simple life with you. So, that's what I chose. Our family. You, Me and Elijah." She realizes that doesn't clear up much. So, she tries her best to elaborate without revealing the full picture, just yet. It was like Sonny had told Wes the night she came to visit him at the Spur, her story could only be shared in increments. Too much, too fast, would only send Shane running for the hills. And that would only ensure she'd never get to see Elijah again.

"Clearly, I chose wrong. After giving birth to Eli, word got out that you and I had started a family. My father and I hadn't spoken in weeks, months actually, and then one day, he just called me out of the blue. Asked if I could meet. I wasn't going to go but, I thought bailing would've been worse and I was convinced I could get him to change his mind. Maybe if he saw that I was happy, he'd finally let it go. He'd finally let me go."

She stops walking, just in time for the dry crunch of her boots to fall silent on the dirt path. Her hand hovers near her heart, clenched like she’s holding something fragile inside her chest. "That didn't happen though, of course. Instead, I was given an ultimatum. I could stay, in Briar Ridge, and wait for his men to come for you and Eli eventually just to punish me or I could leave with the promise that neither of you would ever be harmed. Tell me...." She trails off, the words sticking like thorns in her throat. "What would you have done if you were me?"

Slowly, her eyes lift—only to land on the house a few yards away.

Her breath catches before she can help it. And for a second, she forgets how to move. It's not done. But, the foundation and the bones are still there, all the same. The long wraparound porch. The tall, wooded beams. The kitchen windows angled just so, overlooking a soon to be garden. The shape of the roofline looks like the ones she used to sketch on napkins years ago, while half-asleep on the couch beside him while newborn-Elijah dozed on his chest. It’s not finished, but she sees it. She sees all of it. The promise. The comfort. The safety she craved above all else. A home.

Sonny’s fingers tremble as she walks further up the dirt path to rest her hands against the raw wood of the doorframe. And for a moment, she can’t breathe. The house stands like a monument to everything she lost. Everything she gave up. Everything she thought she'd never be allowed to want again.

Her eyes flick over the unfinished porch, the half-fitted windows, the empty space where a swing will one day hang. The same swing she told him once, that she wanted to watch Elijah grow up on. The same swing she pictured slow-dancing next to, on warm summer nights. A porch that was never supposed to be a dream someone else would get to share with him. It was supposed to be theirs.

“Wait—hold on a second, you built it?” she whispers again, more to herself this time than to him, her voice unraveling at the edges. “You built the life I asked for?” The words come out sharp, trembling with disbelief, and her hand drops from the doorway like it’s burned her.

Her shoulder hits one of the porch beams as she stumbles back a step, trying to blink away the pressure building behind her eyes. “Why?” Her voice cracks, confusion and pain laced thick behind every syllable. “Why would you do it? And why would you show me this, Shane?” She shakes her head once, twice, like she’s trying to physically dislodge the moment from her brain before it swallows her whole. Her breathing’s gone shallow, fast, and she hates that he can see it—hates that he’s watching her come apart in the exact place she used to feel safest.

“This is torture you know,” she says, barely louder than a whisper now. “You don’t get how hard any of this was for me. To bury this life, to bury this dream with you. Because, I had to. Because, I was never allowed to want it. And to make myself feel better about it, I told myself every damn day I was gone Shane, that I didn’t deserve it. That you and Elijah were better off without me. That maybe, if I had stayed gone long enough, you’d start to believe it too. That you'd, I don't know...? move on, start over....be happy...”

Her voice breaks entirely then, her throat closing up around the sob she swallows back down. “And now after I show up here, prepared to spill my guts and risk it all, to tell you things I’ve never said out loud to anyone— you walk me straight into this? Into us. For what?” She laughs, but it’s a hollow, cracked sound, nothing close to the joy she should have been feeling. “So, you can remind me it's never going to be yours AND mine together again? That it's never going to be ours? That I gave all of this up the moment I left here? As if I haven't lived with that punishment for the last seven years. As if I haven't regretted that decision every moment since.” She wraps her arms around herself, like it’s the only thing keeping her from splintering into a thousand tiny, little pieces. Sure, she could just be overreacting. But, was she?

His whole body froze at the explanation that the person she was running from was Eli’s grandfather, her father. Blinking a couple times as his brain tries to process this information, Shane had always thought he’d had it rough with his asshole of a father, but what Sonny was describing was hard to even imagine. “Shit, Sonny.” The curse slips out before he can stop it. Hearing this part of her past, despite everything that’s happened between them, cuts him to the bone. He can only imagine what kind of scars that kind of cruelty left behind.

He’s still trying to wrap his head around the traumatic story of a girl whose father was nothing but cruel and cunning, when he can tell something has shifted. She’s frozen completely still, staring ahead. That’s when he realizes the house has come into view. Despite the heaviness of the conversation, his lips nearly twitch into a smile. He’s been waiting for this moment—wanting to share the life he’s slowly building for Elijah, the life they once dreamed up together. But the reaction he’s expecting never comes.

Instead, she walks forward like she’s weighed down, reaching out to touch the doorframe with trembling fingers. Shane stays where he is, watching as she approaches the house, reaching out and touching the doorframe. He buries his hands in his pocket, puzzled by her reaction so far, waiting for more of an indication of how she’s receiving this. It doesn’t take long before he can finally pick up on how she’s feeling. 

Holding his hands up in the air, he takes a couple cautious steps forward, wading in against the tide of emotions pouring out from her. And for Sonny, someone who always held her emotions so close to the vest, the fact she was showing them, portrayed just how much she was feeling. The lack of control was telling. 

“Sonny… I didn’t build this to hurt you.” He swallows hard, eyes flicking from the porch beams back to her face. “Hell, I didn’t even build it for me. Not really.”

He shifts his weight, pulling a slow breath like he’s choosing every word with care, desperate not to make things worse than he already has. “I built it for Eli. Because he asked. Because one day, out of nowhere, he told me he wanted a house with a big porch swing, just like the one his mama used to talk about.” His voice dips low, thick. “And I realized I’d told him those stories. I’d told him about you. About what you dreamed of. About the home you wanted for us. I didn’t even know I was doing it half the time. Just… trying to give him pieces of you. Pieces I thought he deserved to have.”

His gaze drops to the dirt path, then lifts back to her, steady but aching. “So no, I wasn’t showing you this to punish you. I wasn’t trying to rub salt in a wound. I just—” His voice cracks, and he clears his throat, forcing it steady again. “I just wanted you to see that you were still here. That even when you were gone, you were part of him. Part of us. And I thought… maybe it would mean something to you, knowing that.” His last sentence is punctuated with a tense shrug of his shoulders, as if he’s convinced that explaining won’t actually undo the hurt he’s caused. 

Leyla drew a quiet breath, a small huff of a laugh soon slipping out as she shook her head. "It's a lot alright, I'm glad you acknowledge that," she echoed, her tone warm but carrying that tired kind of hoensty that only people in their position could understand. Perhaps it was the years of friendship, and mutual understanding given their situations were relatable. Her eyes flicked toward the truck where she heard Billie's laugh ring out, mixing with Elijah's. "Funny, huh? How we end up managing everyone else's feelings while ours just.. kind of sit there, waiting their turn," she said, glancing up at him with a small, knowing smirk. "Parenting's a real bitch sometimes."

A breeze rolled past, rustling her curly hair across her cheek before she tucked it back, lost in thought for a moment. "I can only imagine how you're feeling. If Billie's dad came back into the picture... I can only imagine how hard it would be to juggle everything." She glanced up at him now, concern etched across her features — though she did her best to hide it. Being a parent was the hardest freakin' job in the world, and she didn't envy the situation he was in right now. "But, I think you have a right to your feelings about it, and.. you have a right to protect Eli whilst also doing what's best for him. And that might take a little time to work out, and that's okay."

As she spoke, he buried his hands in the pockets of his jeans, head down as he listened to her. "Thanks, Ley." he said quietly. "Sometimes, it feels like poor Eli just got stuck with me." Going into this, he knew she'd be supportive, that was just the kind of loyalty Leyla was known for, but it still helped more than he could say to hear someone else say they thought he was a good dad. He'd found himself questioning that very thought more often than he'd like to admit lately.

"She's told me bits and pieces. At the Spring Fling, she told me to name a time and place and she'd tell me what I wanted to know... But I don't know if I'm ready to hear her out yet," he admitted. "Because," he paused, Shane was terrible at admitting he didn't know what to do, so it took him a moment to work up to it. When he spoke, his voice was raw, the man who always had a plan, who immediately flew into action whenever there was a problem, didn't have a clue what to do about all this. "Because then I have to figure out what the hell to do and I don't know if I'm ready for that yet."

"Hi." It had been twenty years but as she looked at him, it felt like it was yesterday. They both looked older but he still looked the same, the same eyes that still looked annoyingly magical even after all this time. Standing in front of him again, it almost felt like the whole of those twenty years disappeared and she was once again a teenager in front of him, not knowing what to say. There had been a time where she had been able to tell him anything, even when she had a dream of a clown riding a dolphin, but after graduation, she seemed to have lost the ability to speak to him.

"Uh yeah, yeah a couple of months ago now." Putting the teas on the table, Adeline diverted her gaze from him for a few seconds, hoping that not looking at him would ease the awkwardness she felt slightly. "Well my grandmother who I may never speak to again ran away without her tea, so there's one available, you know, if you want it." She sat down at her table, gesturing to the cup next to hers. "But this is also awkward as hell so if you want to run away, I would not hold it against you."

She had managed to suppress the memories of the last time she saw Shane. The image of his back as he walked away from her after ending their relationship at their graduation party and hadn't been burned into her mind for a while now, but now looking at him, it was all she saw. "Twenty years suddenly seems like a really long time, huh?"

If he took the out she had so graciously offered him, he knew he'd regret it later. Shane wasn't the type to put off uncomfortable moments, he was more a rip the bandaid off and get it done type of guy. So finally, after taking a second or two to try and mentally prepare himself for this conversation, he pulled out the seat at her table. "You know what? I think I'll take you up on that offer. Thanks."

Making himself comfortable, he reached out for the offered tea, bringing the cup to his lips if only to have something to do, partly for something to do, partly for a small buffer from the fact that she looked even prettier up close. Pretty didn’t quite cut it anymore—what Addie had now was something that shimmered from the inside out and Shane felt like he almost needed metaphorical sunglasses to take it all in.

When she spoke again, he nearly choked on his tea. Leave it to Addie to bring up the past. Swallowing, he cleared his throat before finally bringing his gaze up to meet hers. "It feels like multiple lifetimes, if I'm being honest," he admitted sheepishly. "How've you been, Addie?"

Finally opening her eyes beneath the brim of her cap, Tanvi turned her head to look at him, and despite her rolling eyes, her gaze held nothing but soft affection for the man next to her. "You're so full of shit, it's disgusting." A laugh left her lips at that, a grin stretching her features and causing her eyes to crinkle in the corners. "Just trying to distract me from the fact that you dragged my ass out here in this heat and then took your sweet time getting here with your bad lemonade opinions."

Stretching her legs out in front of her and crossing them at the ankles, Tanvi moved her gaze away from Shane to look out at the pond in front of them. For a moment, she tried to think about something happy and exciting to share with her friend, but she quickly remembered that this was Shane and she didn't have to do that with him. She didn't have to wear any kind of mask— the basis of their friendship and this place was that they could just be. "Well, do you consider following a mark and tripping over a planter, hitting your head on the sidewalk, and ending up in the hospital with a minor concussion and a few stitches as exciting?" She asked, brows raised with a smirk on her features. "If not then I can tell you about the woman who was convinced her neighbor stole her cat— he didn't, but he was in the process of stealing her husband... and planning a way to off her so they could get her life insurance and run away together."

He could feel himself relaxing just a bit as the laughter eased some of the tension he'd been carrying in his shoulders. Tanvi was always good at that; being around her just helped to ease the stress away. It was a much needed relief. "It's a good thing you love me, huh?" His question was laced with a slow, exaggerated wink, practically begging her to contradict him. But only because she knew how much he appreciated her coming out here. Sure, the sentiment was unspoken, but they'd been doing this enough years now to know how much they both appreciated it.

"Jesus, Tanvi!" he swore as he listened to her story. He wasn't sure which was more concerning, her concussion or the fact that she'd stumbled upon a near murder attempt. "I don't know whether to be worried or impressed at your ability to stumble into shit.... literally." Shaking his head, he glanced at her out of the side of his eye before asking, "Did the woman at least give you a bonus for saving her life?"

SEX AND THE CITY (1998-2004)

The automatic doors gave a tired whoosh as Frankie stepped into Chapman’s Grocer, the blast of cold air-conditioning hitting her square in the face. She blinked at the overhead fluorescents, tugging her ponytail tighter as she maneuvered her basket out from the crooked stack near the entrance.

She wasn’t five paces in before she spotted him — tall frame half-leaning against a cart near the produce section, one hand turning a Honeycrisp apple over like he was scanning it for trade-in value. Shane Parker. Same quietly rugged presence, same slightly crooked posture, like he still carried weight he didn’t talk about.

She considered breezing by, but it’d be rude. And also a lie. She always stopped when she saw them — Shane and his kid. Especially the kid.

“Tell me you’re not feeding Elijah those bruised things,” she called out as she approached, her smile tugging sideways like it was trying not to show too much. “Poor kid deserves better after surviving that flu.”

Frankie slowed beside his cart, one hand resting on the handle of her basket. “How’s he doing, by the way? My favorite patient hasn’t sent me a dinosaur drawing in weeks. I’m starting to take it personally.”

So instead, he didn't notice when his thoughts drifted off during mundane tasks like grocery shopping. That is, until a familiar voice eased him back to the moment. His lips immediately quirked upwards in a grin as he turned to face Frankie. Though it was quickly replaced with a grimace as his attention was drawn to the mealy apple in his hand. Shane quickly discarded it. "I was just tryin' to figure out what the hell happened to quality control these days," he explained with a disappointed shake of his head.

But his smile returned at her question, always appreciative of the bond she’d built with Elijah. “Oh, he’s doin’ a whole heck of a lot better—thanks to Dr. Dilan,” he added, voice tinged with a teasing drawl. “Kid’s tried to come up with at least three different excuses to come see you this week. I'm beginning to wonder if he's got himself a crush.” And Shane couldn't blame him one bit.

She lets him hold her, lets herself be held, even as her body trembles slightly from the enormity of it all. Her hands clutch the back of his shirt like she’s anchoring herself there, like she needs the physical proof that he’s real and this is actually happening—that he didn’t bolt the second the words 'we're pregnant' left her mouth.

And when he finally pulls away, when he finally reassures her with the words—I’m in. All the way—that’s when it hits her. Hard.

Her eyes fill instantly with tears, unblinking and wild, not because she’s unsure, but because she’s never heard it before. Not once. Not from anyone who mattered. Not even from the people who should’ve said it her whole life. Especially, when she needed it the most. But, now it’s him saying it. And it’s him holding her like she’s something worth protecting. Like she’s something that belongs somewhere.

She lets out a choked laugh then, albeit it’s watery. Disbelieving. Her forehead presses itself to his, and she closes her eyes like the world’s too much to look at right now. Her voice, when it comes, is barely above a whisper. “You mean that?”

Her thumb traces along the edge of his jaw, careful, reverent, like she’s still not sure how this version of her life is allowed to exist. “You’re not just saying that because I dropped a bomb in your lap and hijacked your night and your future and maybe even your sanity?” There’s fear in her eyes and in her voice. But there’s hope too. Enough to crack the edges of the steel cage she’s kept around her heart for most of her life.

Her palm slides over his hand again, still resting over the place between them, her hands tighten instinctively, pressing both of them firmer against her stomach like she’s trying to make it more real for both of them. His words hit something in her chest that she didn’t know had been starving. “You’re not going anywhere,” she echoes softly, like she needs to hear it again, from her own mouth, just to believe it. Her eyes search his, a flicker of disbelief still lingering—but faith is blooming underneath it now too. Raw and reckless.

“I don’t know what I expected,” she admits, voice low and a little cracked. “Maybe you running. Maybe silence. Maybe the door slamming behind you and me trying to convince myself I don’t care.” Her fingers thread through his where they rest over her stomach, grounding herself in his presence. “But you didn’t do any of that. You stayed. You always stay.” She closes her eyes for a second, forehead still resting against his, breathing him in like he’s the only thing tethering her to the couch. “I’m scared,” she says simply. “I’ve faced a lot in my life—but this? This feels bigger somehow. This feels like the first thing I can’t control, and I hate how much I want it. With you.”

She pulls back just enough to look at him fully, her expression gentler than she usually lets it be. Open. Unarmored. “But if you’re in… then I’m in too. All the way.” Her hand lifts, brushes lightly over the edge of one of his bruises. “Even if we have no idea what the hell we’re doing. Even if the world comes for us.”

And then—because she’s still her—Sonny smirks faintly through the tears threatening to spill. “Though for the record? If this kid gets your mouth and my impulse control, we’re totally screwed. You know that, right?” She leans in and kisses him again—slow, and aching, and full of every unspoken thing she doesn’t know how to say yet. When she pulls back, she whispers against his lips: “Congrats, baby. You’re gonna be a dad. And if I can say so myself… I think you’re gonna be a pretty damn good one.” Sonny falls back onto the couch, dragging Shane down along with her. “Guess this means, it’s time to get serious about finally building me that dream house.”

But when she leans in, resting her forehead against his, he pulls her even closer—if that’s possible. Like her grounding herself in him somehow anchors him too. He brushes a kiss to her jaw, gentle, grounding, then leans back just enough to meet her eyes. "Every damn word, Son," he says, his voice clear and strong and more certain than he's felt about anything in a long while. "You and this little guy," he paused, glancing down at the hand that still rested between them, obviously with no clue if it's a boy or a girl, but using the term generically, "won't be able to ever get rid of me, even though you'll probably both want to sooner or later."

When he looks up to meet her gaze again, the swell of emotion in his chest threatens to knock the air from his lungs. Sonny, admitting she’s scared—admitting that she wants this so badly it terrifies her—seals it for him. She’s always kept her cards close, held her feelings tight to the vest. But this? This raw honesty sparks something deep and primal in him. A need to protect her. To show her that they can do this. That she’s not alone.

“It’s still sinking in,” he admits, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “But once my brain catches up? Yeah, you bet your pretty little ass I’m gonna be scared shitless, Son.” His voice carries a trace of disbelief, but more than that—there’s awe in it.

“But I meant what I said. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not running. Not now, not ever. You’ve got me—for the long haul. Even if we’re stumbling through diapers and midnight feedings and whatever brand of chaos this little one brings.”

Shane lets out a low, stunned laugh, the kind that sounds half like a breath of relief and half like he’s still catching up to the reality she’s just cemented with those words. “A dad,” he echoes, the title foreign and holy in equal measure on his tongue. He shakes his head, a dazed smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as Sonny tugs him down with her, the two of them sinking into the couch like they’re finally allowed to exhale.

He just breathes her in for a second, forearms braced on either side of her, careful not to put too much weight on her as he kisses her again—slow, insistent, needing the reassurance that this is real. That they’re real.

Morgan shifted, turning to look at her daughter with the other's words. "I bet she'd be good at that, too." She met Shane's gaze once more, "And I bet she'd love it." The sentiment fluttered in her heart, wondering what kind of future Sadie would actually have. Would it be one where it included both of her parents on a consistent basis? One where she wouldn't have to worry about whether they loved each other?

As Shane asked how she was, the hint of a small smile fell. "I'm -" she let out a breath, trying to figure out how to share the weight of what she was feeling. "I'm hanging on by a thread, honestly." And that thread was Sadie. She couldn't fall short, couldn't collapse and lose herself because she had to think of her daughter. @shanepcrker

"I can see it." he said with a chuckle, glancing back at Morgan, noting the pride that shone in her eyes when she looked at her daughter. "She'd be riding circles around all of us in no time."

As Morgan expressed how she was doing, a sense of familiarity washed over him. Shane knew that feeling well. It was something he'd dealt with many times in the years after his ex girlfriend had left town. He let out a breath before turning his body to face her, giving her his full attention. "I can't pretend to understand exactly what you're going through, but I know what it's like to feel like you're barely hanging on, but know you have to for your kid's sake." he offered as he leaned his shoulder against the railing. "And It fuckin' sucks," he let out a sympathetic laugh as he said it, the weight they carried as human beings with their own emotions and feelings was only compounded by the responsibilities they held as parents.

"Slide me another one, please." she waved down a bartender and ordered, a look of annoyance placed onto her features. She had tried going on yet another date set up on one of her dating apps. It ended with her throwing her drink on him for insinuating that she'd sneak off with him within the first five minutes of their interaction and give him the time of his life.

Now, if he had been someone she was consistent with, or maybe an ex, then hell yeah because Reina was in need...sad to say. However, he wasn't—and he looked nothing like his photos. So, at the bar she stood, waiting on her next drink to make its way to her before she'd maybe attempt going out onto the floor so she could keep enjoying her night. While she waited, she let her gaze travel out amongst the crowd, looking for anyone she might know.

Still, Wes’s devotion to Elijah during this weird stretch between the brothers hadn’t wavered, and for that Shane was endlessly grateful. Wes had agreed to watch Elijah so Shane could enjoy a rare night to himself. The plan was simple: drop Eli off at the Spur as Wes was wrapping up for the night, then Wes would take him home while Shane did… well, whatever he wanted in town.

He’d just dropped Eli off at the office and was threading his way back through the crowded bar when he noticed a large, clearly intoxicated man stumbling toward the bar. The guy was weaving all over the place and, from a few steps away, Shane could already see the inevitable—he was about to plow straight into a petite woman standing at the bar.

Shane stepped in, catching the guy just in time. “Maybe you wanna get some water next, cowboy,” he muttered, shoving him in the opposite direction. The drunk staggered away in a crooked zigzag, earning only a shake of Shane’s head.

When he turned toward the woman—the would-be recipient of the collision—recognition flickered. He’d seen her before. She lived in one of the last houses before Silver Creek land; he passed it nearly every time he drove into town.

“Sorry about that,” he said, a smug smirk tugging at his lips as he added, “Someone oughta tell the owner of this place he needs to do a better job of training his employees when to cut people off.” A pointed jab at his brother, one he hoped he could get away with since she probably didn't know he was related to the owner.

“You okay?”