Now 10 years old, you were both playing in Andy's yard when your parents called you for dinner. Being kind and knowing that Andy loved his toys, you helped him carry them back to his room. As usual, you put his toys back in his chest except for Woody and Buzz, which were his favorites. When you closed the door to his room to follow him downstairs, however, before going after him, you heard a noise inside his room. Quietly, you opened the door and peeped from inside to verify what those noises were.

What you saw inside paralyzed you.

"Ugh... I'm getting too old for this," Ham complained as he tried to get out of the toy box with the others.

"Okay, okay, they're just kids," Woody said, helping him stand up.

"And we're Andy's toys, and we should be there for him," Buzz encouraged Woody.

"Yeah, and that girl (Name) has some really good toys, too," Jessie said.

"Oh yeah!" Rex said happily. "She put this skirt on me and said it made my eyes pop!"

"You see, Ham? Besides, they take good care of uuUSS!" Jessie was on top of the bed so she could be with Buzz and Woody, but she slipped on the sheets as she tried to get up.

Immediately, seeing that Jessie was about to fall, you reached over to pick her up so she wouldn't hit herself. She fell into your hand and turned to see who was holding her.

A collective gasp could be heard when she saw you there.

"Y-you're... Y-you're alive..." You said, surprised, looking at Jessie.

"Uh... Hi, cowgirl!" Woody greeted you from the bed.

"God..." you said, still not believing they were alive.

"Please don't tell Andy about this," Woody asked you.

"And try to forget about it too," Buzz suggested with a nervous smile.

"I uh..." Then you heard Andy shouting your name for you to come down.

You gently put Jessie on the bed and then turned to look at them.

"O-okay... I won't give Andy anything," you promised.

"Thanks," Woody said sincerely.

You smiled at them and left, closing the door.

The next few days were a bit strange playing with the toys, but over time, you got used to it. From this experience on, you started treating the toys more kindly than usual, to the point that Andy teased you about it while you just rolled your eyes.

Over the years, the toys watched you both grow up and fall in love with each other (so much so that it helped you both become a couple, and to this day, they take credit for it. You can only roll your eyes and laugh). In your sophomore year of high school, Andy finally asked you to be his girlfriend, and you gladly accepted.

Now you were both ready for college, which meant that your childhood was over and the doors of adulthood were now open for both of you.

"I'm organized. In my own way," he just laughed.

"Have you seen my phone?" Andy asked you as he searched for it.

"No. Not really," you admitted. "Do you want me to call you?"

"Yes, please," he said as he continued searching.

You grabbed your phone and dialed Andy's number. His phone started ringing and was apparently in the toy box.

'So this was their idea,' you thought as you heard Andy's ringtone coming from.

Andy walked over to the toy box and opened it. From there, he pulled out Rex, who was holding the phone. He snatched the phone from Rex's hand and then turned it off.

"Hey! Be more careful with him," you said as you went over to kneel beside him.

"After all these years, you still care about these old toys?" He mocked you.

"Ha. Ha. Of course. After all, these toys brought us together," you pointed out.

Andy rolled his eyes and then put his cell phone in his pants pocket.

"This had to be Molly's idea," Andy said, a little annoyed. "I've told her a thousand times not to touch my things."

"Stop blaming your sister for your clumsiness." Now it was your turn to make fun of him.

"Whatever," he rolled his eyes but smiled at you. "Come on, my mom wants you to go try something she made."

"Sure," you giggled.

Andy closed the toy box and stood up, helping you to your feet. Holding hands, you both left the room, but not before closing the door and seeing the disappointed faces of the toys.

"So tell me, have you thought about doing anything with those toys?" you asked him as you walked to the kitchen.

"I honestly haven't given it much thought," he admitted.

"Well, you should. They're good toys," you told him as you walked into the kitchen.

"(Name)! It's great that you're here!" Andy's mother greeted you with a warm hug.

"Hello, ma'am," you greeted her with the same warmth.

"So, tell me, have you already organized your things for college?" She asked as she leaned against the kitchen counter.

"Everything's ready, otherwise I would have driven my mom crazy." You giggled as you stood next to Andy and he put an arm around your waist.

"That's great! As you can see, my son here hasn't packed anything yet," his mother mocked him.

"Hey! I already have some things packed," Andy said with mock offense.

"Yeah, if it weren't for (Name), you'd still be sitting at your desk doing nothing." His mother crossed her arms.

"But no more delay. Since you're active, you have to decide what's trash and what goes in the attic."

"But Mom," Andy said exasperatedly. "We're leaving on Friday."

"And the garbage comes today, so here." She gave him a box that said "university" and garbage bags.

Andy sighed but listened to his mom and grabbed the things.

"And (Name), be a sweetheart and please make sure he does it right," his mother urged.

"Understood," you said, giving her a military salute and following Andy back to his room.

"You know I can hear you, right?" Andy called out from the hallway, making both of you laugh.

"Stop being such a sourpuss," you said with a slight mocking tone.

"I'm not sour," he defended himself.

"Of course- Hi Molly!" you greeted the little pubescent girl.

"Hi (Name)!" she greeted you excitedly, then turned to look at Andy. "Can I borrow your laptop?"

"I already told you no," Andy growled as the three of you entered her room.

"But remember, in a few days your room will be mine," Molly said mockingly.

"Can you get out of my room?" Andy asked as he placed the box and bags on his bed.

Meanwhile, Molly approached the toy box and asked Andy, "Why do you still have your old toys?"

"Molly, I told you to get out of my room," Andy growled again, which made you laugh.

"Three days and it'll be mine!" she sang as she left Andy's room.

"I don't know how you handle him (Name)," the little girl told you.

"Sometimes I don't even know," you said from your place, leaning against the wall, watching the little conflict between the siblings.

"Molly, don't you dare think you're also safe," her mother told her from the stairs.

"You have lots of toys, and you could donate some of them to children at the nursery."

"And you, Andy," his mother entered his room again.

"Decide what you want to do with those toys. You can donate them to Sunnyside, too," his mother suggested.

Andy seemed a little put off by the choice.

"No, Mom," he said quickly.

"Or you could also sell them," he suggested again.

"No, Mom. Who's going to want these old toys? They're junk."

That surprised you, so you decided to intervene.

"They're not junk. Don't you remember all the adventures we used to have with them?"

Andy just rolled his eyes.

"Well, you have until Friday to decide. Otherwise, I'll throw out everything that isn't packed for college or the attic," she said, then left his room.

"Whatever you say, Mom." Andy sighed as he ran a hand over his face.

Andy sat down in his chair, and you smiled at his tired state. You walked up behind him and hugged his shoulders.

"Bitter," you whispered in his ear, making him laugh.

"Shut up," he said with a smile.

"Do you think you can help me put these books in a box? They're for the attic," Andy asked you as he kissed your arm.

"Sure," you kissed him on the cheek and pulled away from him.

"I'll get a box," you said, then left the room in search of a box.

Andy walked over to the toy box and opened it. He grabbed Mr. Potato Head and said through his teeth, "I don't know why she insists on taking care of them."

Andy looked at the door and got up from his chair. He walked over to his bed and grabbed a black trash bag and started putting all the toys in it until only Buzz and Woody were left. After a moment of decision, Andy put Woody in the university box while he put Buzz in the black bag with the others. He closed the bag and headed for the attic.

Meanwhile, you were walking back to Andy's house with a cardboard box in your hands that you got from your house.

"Oh, I see you two are finally getting along," you teased him when you saw him helping Molly with the donation box.

"Ha. Ha," Andy said sarcastically.

"Hey, where's your mom going?" you asked Andy when you saw his mother leaving in her car.

"Oh, she's going to Sunnyside to donate Molly's toys," Andy explained.

"Oh, right. I'll pick up your books," you said as you walked in. But before you left, Andy grabbed you by the waist and kissed you, then let you go.

"Eww," you heard Molly say, then went back inside.

You walked into Andy's room and closed the door behind you.

"Psst... Woody..." you called as you approached Andy's college locker but didn't find anything.

"What the...?" You searched the entire room and couldn't find Woody or any other toys.

You were looking under the bed when Andy walked in.

"Hey... What are you doing?" he asked, making you stand up quickly.

"Nothing! I was just looking for Woody," you said with an embarrassed smile.

Andy laughed lightly and helped you stand up.

"Why are you looking for him? I left him in the..." Andy looked around and couldn't find his cowboy.

"Box... I swear, sometimes it seems like those toys are alive"

"So what did you do with the others?" you asked.

"I put them in a bag to take them to the attic." He looked back at the place where he had left the bag, but it was gone.

"Hey... where's the bag?" He asked you.

"Bag? There wasn't a bag when I got back," you said.

"What? Well, maybe Mom already brought it up to the attic," Andy guessed.

"Oh yeah, right," you nodded, but you weren't sure.

The next morning, you were resting peacefully in your bed when your cell phone started ringing. Somewhat clumsily, you picked it up and answered it.

"Hello?" you said sleepily.

"Hello, (Name)?" Woody said from the other end of the phone.

"W-Woody? Is everything okay?" That made you get out of bed.

"No. Nothing's okay."

Woody told you everything that happened and everything the other toys had told him about Sunnyside, the place where his toy friends were at the time.

"It can't be... Andy thinks his mom took them up to the attic," you told Woody.

"That's what I told them, but they didn't listen." Woody sighed.

"I can't leave them there."

"Neither can I," you told the cowboy.

"That's why I called you. I have a plan and I need you to help me with it."

"Okay, but where the heck are you?" You asked the cowboy.

"I'm in Sunnyside, but don't worry, I know what to do."

"Fine. What should I do, Sheriff?"

All day Andy had been lamenting over his toys, thinking they were lost, so you had been comforting him. You were both in his bed, with him lying on top of you.

"Come on, my love..." you murmured in his ear.

"I know I said they were trash, but... It's not true..." Andy murmured.

"I know, my love." You kissed his temple. "You'll see, you'll find them."

"How are you sure of that?" He turned to look at you.

"Because like you said, they seem to have a life of their own. They always come back to you."

Andy smiled and softly kissed your lips.

"Yeah. I hope you're right."

That same night, Woody's plan was about to begin. Your job was simple in his eyes, but complicated for you. You had to enter Sunnyside, where the trash cans were. You honestly thought it would be simple: get in, get the toys, and return home, but you didn't consider that there would be security around the school.

For several minutes, you searched for an entrance without being noticed until you finally found the trash cans. You carefully walked toward them and saw your friends along with some other toys.

"He abandoned all of you!" you heard a deep voice exclaim.

"That's not true!" Woody exclaimed.

You leaned forward to get a better look and saw a pink teddy bear in front of your friends.

"Tell me something, Cowboy, if you child truly loves you, why would he abandon you? Do you think you're special, cowboy? You're a piece of plastic! You were made to be thrown away!"

"That's not true, bear," you spoke from behind them. "They're not trash, and if it weren't for them, Andy and I wouldn't be a couple."

"What the heck?" Lotso said, surprised by your appearance.

"(Name)!" Your friends exclaimed upon seeing you.

"Hey guys," you smiled at them. "We've missed you so much."

Lotso glared at you, but a wicked smile soon appeared on his face.

"It doesn't matter if you're here. I'm sure they don't want you to get caught on private property," the bear said as he leaned forward to see the approaching garbage truck.

"Damn..." You muttered under your breath.

"How about you come back with me to the Sunnyside family?" Lotso proposed. "That way you won't rot in the garbage and your friend won't have any serious consequences."

"That's not a family! It's a prison!" "I'd rather rot in the trash than go back!" Jessie exclaimed.

"Fine, whatever!" the purple octopus began to push them toward the trash can.

"NO!" You walked over to try to grab them, but you were terrified of someone seeing you.

Out of nowhere, a half-naked Ken appeared.

"What the...?" you said when you saw him, but you had to duck down to avoid being seen.

"Stop! Lotso, please don't do that!" Ken begged the bear.

"Please, Ken! She's not the only Barbie, Ken!" "There are 100 million just like her!" the bear yelled at her.

"No, there's no one like her to me," Ken said, smiling at Barbie.

"Aww..." you said, hearing his words.

It would be cute if this weren't such a dangerous situation.

"Well, then join her!" Lotso exclaimed, throwing him towards them, causing Ken to almost fall into the dumpster, but you quickly caught him so he wouldn't fall in, even though you were about to. The other toys helped him up so you could regain your balance.

Barbie hugged Ken and he stood up.

"Sunnyside could be a cool place, but it was Lotso who turned this place into a prison!" the doll exclaimed.

Lotso just smiled evilly.

"Does anyone agree with Ken?" he asked, but no one answered.

"I wasn't the one who replaced them!" Lotso exclaimed. "It was their boy! All the kids are going to replace us!"

"What? Don't you remember Daisy?" Woody asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Lotso said.

"Yes, Daisy. Your little girl."

"She replaced us!"

"No, she lost them and only replaced you! She gave him the love a child can give a toy, and you lied to Big Baby!" Woody threw Daisy's charm at him, and Big Baby looked sad.

"Mom..."

"What?! You want your mommy back?! Stop acting like a baby!" Lotso yelled at the baby, destroying the charm, making Big Baby cry.

"Push them all!" Lotso ordered the purple octopus.

"NO!" You yelled for your friends, and without thinking twice, you reached out to try to pick them up, but the distance was significant.

"This is what happens when fools want to think!" He hit Big Baby with his cane.

"WE'RE ALL TRASH! THOSE ARE TOYS!" Lotso couldn't continue his evil dialogue, because Big Baby picked him up and threw him into the trash can, then closed the lid.

"He's gone...!" Rex exclaimed.

"Scary...!" said Mr. Potato Head.

With the lid closed, you could finally get closer to your friends.

"Hey guys! What a night, huh?" You laughed out of nervousness.

"You have no idea," Woody smiled at you. "Despite your age, you're still an excellent cowgirl."

"Thanks, the best one taught me," you winked at Woody.

Behind you, you heard someone sticking out their tongue. It was Big Baby, sticking his tongue out at Lotso.

"Aw...." you said, dying of tenderness. "Aren't you a little cutie?" You stroked his cheek, and he laughed happily.

"Okay, there isn't much time," you said as the garbage truck got closer.

"Just come with me," you said to your friends. But on the way, one of the green aliens got stuck in the slot of the dumpster.

"Oh, I can't believe it!" Woody exclaimed as he approached him since you had your hands full with the others.

However, as Woody lifted the lid of the dumpster, Lotso reached out and grabbed the cowboy's foot.

"Woody!" Jessie and you exclaimed simultaneously.

You left the toys next to a wall so you could go get Woody. You opened the dumpster, but it was too deep for you to fall in too. Before anyone else could do anything, the garbage truck arrived and took the dumpster.

"Come on! Get in!" Jessie exclaimed to the others to get on the dumpster to help their friends, but this only caused everyone to fall into the truck.

"Is everyone okay?!" Woody shouted to his friends, and some responded.

"(Name)?!" They shouted for you.

"I'm fine," you told them while you were cleaning up trash.

"Okay, everyone go with Buzz!" Woody ordered his friends. "(Name), stay on the edge! They can hurt you more than us."

You nodded, but before you could do anything, more trash started falling in.

"Damn!" You exclaimed.

You grabbed your phone and dialed your boyfriend's number. After a few minutes, he answered.

"My love?" he asked sleepily.

"Andy! I need your help!" you shouted to make sure you woke him up.

"H-help?" You heard the bed sheets rustling. "(Name), what's going on? Where are you?"

"Go to the dumpster!"

"What? Why?" he asked, alarmed.

"Just do it!" you said after hanging up.

When you hung up, you put your phone in your pocket to look for your friends. You found them dragging Buzz out from under a television. You quickly approached them.

"What happened?!" you asked, alarmed.

"A television fell on him while he was trying to save me!" Jessie explained.

Out of nowhere, Buzz started moving his head as if rebooting and looked around, confused.

"It wasn't me, was it?" was the first thing Buzz said when he smelled the disgusting environment they were in.

Everyone sighed in relief and overjoyed to see their space friend safe and sound.

"(Name)? Woody?" he said, surprised to see them there.

"Hello, astronaut," you gave him a military salute.

"Welcome back, friend," Woody greeted him.

"Tell me, where is this?" Buzz asked.

"A truck on the way to the dumpster!" Rex replied.

Upon arriving at the dumpster, everyone was dumped in the garbage. It wasn't that hard for you to locate you, but it was going to be hard to spot the others.

"Guys!" you shouted for your friends. "Are you okay?!"

You heard murmurs and coughs, which was good enough for a yes.

"The claw!" the aliens exclaimed as they ran excitedly toward the garbage crane.

"Don't go! Wait!" You exclaimed with Woody trying to stop them but because of the fall, one of your sides was hurt.

Suddenly, some trucks started pushing garbage onto an electric conveyor belt that was carrying it to the incinerator. Fortunately, you were able to avoid it, but your friends weren't, causing them to fall onto the belt.

"No," you exclaimed as you watched your friends fall, but you weren't going to leave them there.

You took out your phone and texted Andy, saying only, "Incinerator."

After sending that text, you ran toward the incinerator to try to locate your friends as quickly as possible.

You found one of the entrances and finally entered the incinerator.

"It can't be..." you muttered as you saw the huge fire in the center.

"Guys!" you shouted for your friends. In the distance, you could see something moving; it was them.

You went down to the garbage dump, and the first thing that happened was that you got burned, since many of the materials burned when heated. But you didn't care and continued walking toward them.

"Guys!" you called again once you were closer, now turning to look at them.

"(Name)!" They all exclaimed when they saw you.

"Is everyone okay?" you asked.

"Yes! But what are you doing here?! It's too dangerous for you!" Woody scolded.

"I'm fine," you giggled. "It's just some burns, nothing serious."

"It's not like that, (Name)..." Buzz was about to scold you, but you interrupted him.

"Just come here." You opened your arms for them to approach you. Little by little, they all approached you and hugged you, and you hugged them, preparing for an imminent impact.

Out of nowhere, a white light appeared above you. Everyone looked up and saw a claw come down to grab them. Everyone was confused, but the claw positioned them in front of the person controlling the crane.

"Andy!" You said, relieved to see your boyfriend, who was accompanied by three green aliens.

"You have a lot to explain, (Name)," he said, then looked at his toys. "And you guys too."

Andy released them onto solid ground where they could see the sun.

"Oh my God..." You lay down, not caring that you were surrounded by trash.

"(Name)!" You heard someone call your name and sat up when you saw it was Andy.

"Andy!" You tried to get up, but the pain prevented you. Immediately, Andy approached you and carried you bridal style so you wouldn't have to walk.

"Hey... Everything's okay..." he murmured against your hair.

The last thing you remember before everything went black was Andy saying sweet nothings in your ear.

When you woke up, everything was bright and no longer smelled bad; on the contrary, it smelled of chlorine and disinfectants.

"Ugh..." you groaned as you tried to sit up.

"No, no, cowgirl. You need to lie down," a voice next to you said. It was Jessie.

"Jessie?" On the nightstand were Rex, Ham, Mr. Potato Head, the aliens, Stinky, and Bullseye.

"Guys... What happened?" you asked.

"You fainted when Andy ran to see you at the dumpster," Mrs. Potato Head told you.

"Yeah! He brought you here," Stinky added.

"Andy... And where is he?" you asked.

"I'm here," Andy said as he entered your hospital room.

Buzz and Woody came out from under his jacket and joined the others.

"So there they were," you laughed softly at the sight of the two friends.

"They all wanted to come with me so I could buy you something from the cafeteria," Andy said as he sat down in a chair next to your bed.

In the end, they decided it was best for the two of them to come with me, but that's not important."

You sighed. You knew it was your turn to be scolded.

"I know..." you sighed.

"What the hell were you thinking? How could you risk your life like that?" Andy asked seriously.

"I had to..." you tried to explain, but he interrupted you.

"You could have just told me!"

"I know! But would you believe me if I told you we had to save your toys from a kindergarten?"

"No, but..." Andy sighed and leaned back in his chair. "You almost died. Look at how you looked."

"It's just burns and wounds." "Nothing serious," you assured him, but he glared at you.

"Andy," you took his hand. "I'm fine," you assured him.

He squeezed your hand and brought your knuckles to his lips to kiss them.

"Don't do it again."

"I don't make promises," you said with a smile.

"(Name)..."

"Okay, okay. I'm not going to do it again."

"And you guys," Andy turned to look at him. "I should apologize to everyone."

"No need, cowboy," Woody assured him.

"Yeah, everything's okay! We made mistakes too," Buzz told him.

"Even so, I never should have called you trash or put you in trash bags. Please forgive me."

Everyone climbed on top of Andy to hug him, and he hugged them back as best he could.

"Now, are you ready to go to college with us?" Andy asked, and everyone's eyes lit up.

Yeah, it was more than certain that this was the family you wanted to be with.

Hello! I hope everyone liked this one-shot! It was my first ever one-shot and to be honest I'm proud of it! But still i hope @anyadouc44 liked this as well! And have to thank her as this was a beautiful challenge for me and a nice walk across memory lane as Toy Story was one of my favorite movies growing up! Anyway, thank you so so much and I'll see you in the next one!

XOXO

“Don’t move. I want to feel this.” Andy’s voice is ragged against your ear as he stills inside you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. Your legs wrap instinctively around his waist, pulling him closer as your walls flutter around him. 

“Fuck, I missed this,” he groans against your throat. “Missed being buried in this tight little pussy.”

Your fingers dig into his shoulders as you fight the urge to move. 

You’ve known you love Andy since long before you ended things, which is exactly why you had to. You couldn’t keep giving yourself to a man who would never fully be yours, especially when every time he left, he took pieces of you with him.

“I’ve been going insane without you,” he admits, his voice rough with emotion. “Lying in my own bed at night, wishing it was you next to me.” 

Andy begins to move slow and steady, each stroke a reminder of why you’ve never been able to deny him. 

“I tried to stay away,” he pants, his pace quickening slightly. “Tried to respect your decision. But I’m nothing without you, honey.”

His hand slides between your bodies, thumb finding your clit, making you whimper. “Look at me, baby,” he whispers, and when your eyes meet, the vulnerability you see steals your breath. “I love you. I’m so in love with you.” 

You pull him into a fierce kiss as your orgasm crashes through you, a muffled cry escaping against his lips. 

Andy comes apart moments later with a throaty moan, his release hot and deep inside you. He collapses against you, both of you panting, as his words echo in your mind. 

You love him too—but you’ll never truly have him. These stolen moments in the dark are all you’ll ever get.

It started with the two of you hanging out and enjoying each other's company. Then, a kiss. And that leads to a make out session.

For Andrew, it was hard for both his self-control and his dick. He couldn't help that you got him turned on and horny now. Of course he doesn't blame you, no. Andrew is mature. He knows himself that he is too in love with you. He loves you so dearly that he couldn't bear to think of you with any other guy. He loves so dearly that he gets hard every time you're close to him and he can smell your sweet perfume. And those times, he always excuses himself to go to the bathroom.

But somehow he's always nonchalant about it and you find it attractive. Obviously, you know the reasons he went to the bathroom but you don't really understand why.

Why did he get turned on seeing your body? It wasn't curvy. You don't have big boobs or squishable ass.

His hands always run down your hip and up to your waist, playing with the fat there while kissing. Sometimes even fiddling the hem of your shirt, pulling and twirling, asking for your permission to go further.

You don't say anything nor give a sign. You were nervous. How do you do this stuff? How do you initiate? What do you have to do? So, you let him do his thing.

That's when he pulls away, leaving traces of saliva connecting from your lips. His green eyes looked at yours, pleading. You know what he wants but again, how do you initiate? Are you even able to go all the way with him?

He senses your unsure feeling and lifts himself up. The warmth radiating from his body is no longer there. "We don't have to do it, y'know. I'm not forcing—"

You grab his sleeves, even more worried about him than yourself. "It's fine. It's just . . ." You were embarrassed to say that you have no idea what to do yet you know he knows that you're a virgin, but he doesn't know that you were somewhat scared of losing it. It's just the thought of putting something foreign inside you is . . . weird and sounds uncomfortable.

"I'll guide you. I promise I'll be gentle," he says so softly it's soothing. His lips pull into a smile, an endearing one that doesn't show any mischievous hint. He pecks your forehead with thumb strokes on your temple. Despite the soft touches, his dick was undeniably rock hard you can feel it brushing on your thigh.

His hand slips inside your shirt and moves upward, riding up your shirt but stopping at the edges of your bra. If you weren't wearing any, he would've reached your nipples for not even feeling the mounds of breasts from how flat it becomes when you lie down. He stares down at you pleadingly before sliding behind you to unclip your underwear.

You were getting nervous once he sees them. What if he's disappointed? What if it turns him off—?

You hear a moan coming from Andrew once he touches one of your nipples. You also let out a sigh from the touch. He pulls off your shirt and bra together and gazes at your naked body.

"Fuck," he moans again under his breath. Oh shit, does he hate it?

He dives into your nipples and gives a hard suck, proving your point wrong. You whimper and that really seems to motivate him. He licks it, suckles on it, even bites it. Your idle nipple has already been paid attention with his fingers, pinching and pulling and flicking. All of it made your head swirl that you can only think of Andrew and the amazing sensations. You've been moaning for him your pussy is getting wet.

When you whimper, he would look up at you but his mouth is still occupied with your nipples. Sometimes you can even feel him smirk.

Once he's satisfied, he switches to the other one. You find the saliva connecting from his lips to your nipple hot. His empty hand starts to inch its way down to your pants. He slips inside and circles on your clothed clit. You gasp, your body reacting to the attention. Your legs automatically close around his hand it made him open it up again and pinned one of your legs down. You whine when he continues to rub on your clit. Your legs keep thrashing but his smile gets wider and his breathings are labour. Somehow, your reaction excites him.

He fully pulls off your pants, leaving your panties on just to purposely pull it aside. He rubs a few on your clit before diving a finger into your hole. When you feel it prodding at your entrance, your eyes widen and you quickly push his hand away without thinking before realizing what you did. You look at him apologetically, but he was fast to reassure too. He kisses your lips and all over your face to distract you. Andrew tries again, touching your hole and slowly pushing it in. Gladly, this time you didn't squirm away.

"Good girl, that's it. You're doing great," he talks you through it before moving his finger. You gasp again but he keeps whispering sweet nothings and praises in your ear.

"Everything's okay. Just relax, alright?" Another kiss on your forehead and you're melting into him.

He picks up his speed, still focusing on your expressions for any signs of discomfort. He adds another finger in and you moan. Your mouth is shaped into an 'O' and he just has the urge to bite your bottom lip so he just does it, even sticking his tongue into your opened mouth. It was an opportunity, he took it.

He feels you tighten around his finger and it makes him grind down on you, accidentally pushing himself deeper. You whine from it.

Andrew takes out his fingers to pull off his pants, flinging his dick out. Your eyebrows furrow upwards at the sight. It made you drool but the realization that that thing is going inside you snaps you.

He notices your worried expression and kisses your nose. "Don't worry. We don't have to go all the way if you're not ready."

You look down at his cock again, hard and red. Very red on the tip. "What about you?"

"I'll do this—" his cock glides on your wet pussy. "Ngh, if you don't mind?"

Your moan and a nod testifies to your consent and his hips got to work. The rubbing of his dick on your pussy and clit was a whole new level of pleasure for you. You thought that that was enough to make you crazy, he pushes in more of his cock into you with his thumb to get more friction and that makes your eyes roll behind and your back arching for more. Your small tits were displayed for him he had to grab onto it and squeeze. Adding a few pinches to your nipple before letting go.

The cute noises coming from your mouth motivates him to go faster and a teensy bit rougher. "Fuck, fuck! I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum! Andrew!"

"Yeah? You're gonna cum? Go ahead, doll. Let go for me. Mmh, fuck! You feel so good."

Your pussy is soaking wet it makes his grinding much easier. And the sight, oh he loves seeing it sloppy. He can't wait to cum on your pussy. The thought makes him close to his climax. "Babe, I can't! I can't— I'm gonna cum!" He whimpers but he didn't know that you've already cummed a few seconds ago.

"I'm cumming! Haa!" He gasps and white shoots out, painting your stomach and your pussy, just like he wanted. He groans as he slowly grinds on you to ride out his orgasm. It took you a moment to notice his cheeks are red and his ears too.

His cum spreads all over pussy and inner thighs now from his slow grinds. Once he pulls away, he can't help but to stare at your messy pussy. Some of the white cum still running down you and it got into your hole. His intrusive thoughts win and he gathers some more cum and pushes them into your hole.

"Andrew!" You gasped from the sudden intrusion.

He chuckles, "Sorry." But his green eyes are still glued to your pussy. "I wanna lick it so bad but I don't want to taste my own cum, haha. Maybe next time."

There’s part of you that is small, scared. And you suspect it always will be, now. You’re tempted briefly to listen to it. After all, you certainly aren’t outrunning security with a baby in your arms—but you don’t. The light in the bedroom behind you goes out with a soft hum, leaving you in twilight. The little voice tells you to do nothing, pleads again for you to wait, for waiting is easier than running. 

Instead, you grab the baby blanket inside the bassinet, shaking loose it with one hand before you place Dove carefully between your shoulders blades. You’d only ever wrapped her up like that one time—Andy didn’t trust that she wouldn’t fall. The baby settles easily between your shoulders, and you wrap the blanket around her securely, checking her position in the mirror.

When you’re finished, you test the security of your knots a few times before you’re satisfied she isn’t going anywhere. 

I need to get out of this house.

The hallway is empty and silent when you open the door. You pause on the threshold, waiting for Andy to materialize. He doesn’t, though, and after a few seconds of debate, you step out into the dark. You don’t dare try the light, instead grabbing the bannister as you make your way toward the stairs. Dove gurgles, tugging on a fistful of your hair. You take them slowly, one at a time as your eyes adjust to the dark, teeth sunk firmly into your lower lip. 

There are no shoes by the front door when you reach the landing, and you recall the way Andy had looked at you as he’d thrown them in the garbage. You may have new ones when you can be trusted again.

You smile viciously. 

I’d walk on glass if it meant being away from you.

You try the pin-pad by the door a few times, brows furrowing in growing fear and frustration as the Error code flashes with a loud buzz each time. You try every combination you can think of—your birthday, Dove’s, Jacob’s, Andy’s, nothing works. 

“Fucking—fuck!” You kick the door, cursing again at the pain. Dove burbles sleepily on your back, and when you glance at her in the hall mirror, she’s fixated with a strand of your hair, mouthing on it as she mumbles. If you listen carefully, the syllables are almost Mama, close but not quite. 

You’re getting nowhere with the door, you need to try something else. Behind you is the living room, the kitchen, his office and other rooms being places Andy hadn’t “trusted” you enough to allow you to enter. The windows in the living room are firmly sealed when you tug on them, as are the ones in the kitchen. Freedom is six inches of glass away, and you can’t reach it. Panic begins to rise again in your chest, and you tamp it down determinedly. No. No tears. I will get out of here. We will get out of here. 

As you are debating whether to venture further into the house, the keypad by the front door lets out a familiar warbling tone you know means it’s unlocked, and the fear makes you go cold. 

Andy.

You duck into the pantry as the front door opens, peering through the tiny crack in the sliding cupboard door at the bright beam of the flashlight. Dove babbles and you hush her, your heart pounding. 

“Upstairs,” Andy’s voice is low, and deadly serious. You want to cower just hearing it. “Get her and the baby. We need to leave.” Leave? You press closer to the door. Why?

“This is the worst fucking job I’ve ever had,” the sound of Robert Pronge’s voice turns your stomach. “I’m not a fucking babysitter—” There’s a sharp click as a gun is cocked, and you feel no small amount of satisfaction picturing him at the end of the barrel. “I’m fucking going, Christ, Barber.” You listen as he stomps up the stairs, and Andy storms into the kitchen and past, into his office. 

You hear things being opened, thrown around. Quickly you reach behind you to check your knots again, making sure Dove’s secure—you’ll have to run, you know that. It will only take Robert a few minutes to deduce you aren’t anywhere upstairs, and by the time Andy figures it out too, you need to be out the door. 

You had not heard the lock re-engage, not heard any of the familiar beeps as Andy punched in the code. Of course, you might just have missed it, but you have to try—staying in the pantry isn’t an option. Andy is still opening and closing drawers in his office, you can hear him through the thin cupboard wall. You slowly slide open the pantry door, creeping out through the gap. You’re mindful of Dove, careful not to wake her as you pad quietly back through the house. 

The door stands slightly ajar, and through it you can see the driveway, wet grass on either side. 

Now. It has to be now.

You throw open the door. You’re prepared to sprint barefoot into the yard but instead are met with a person. Dressed in black body armor, a gun held in one hand. Scrambling backwards you prepare to fight past the security guard, but strangely, he doesn’t reach for you. Instead, he pulls up the edge of his mask, and you feel your knees go weak as you grasp for the doorframe. 

“Hello, Mouse.” Ari smiles down at you so brilliantly it takes you nearly a full minute to see the blood on his cheek. 

“Ari!” You’re afraid for a moment that he isn’t real, that none of this is, that you’ll open your eyes and Andy will be there instead. Ari cups your chin. 

“Cover her ears, Baby.” You reach back and clap your ears around your groggy infant’s head as Ari raises his arm, gun held tightly in his hand. He pulls you to his chest just as Robert Pronge’s panicked footsteps start down the stairs. 

“She’s not upstairs, Barber, baby’s gone too—Oh.” He stops suddenly, and you turn to see him glaring hatefully at you, stopped halfway down the staircase. “You little bitch.” He snarls, but doesn’t take a step closer. Ari looks down at you, eyes narrowed at the healing bruise still evident on your face. 

“Him or Andy, Mouse?”

“What?” 

“Was it him or Andy that put that mark on your face?” He pulls back the hammer.

“H-him.” 

“Good.” 

You’re still holding your hands over Dove’s ears when he squeezes the trigger, and you watch Robert’s right shoulder explode into a bloody mess of raw skin and torn muscle. He screams, and the sound is more satisfying to you than it probably should be. You expect a matching one from your own throat at the sight, but instead you only inhale sharply, gazing with indifference as the man who’d murdered Irene falls in a clumsy, bloody heap at the foot of the stairs. He holds his ruined shoulder, moaning curses—mostly aimed at you. 

“You fucking cunt, you fucking cunt—”

Ari leans down and pulls the guns from their holsters at Robert’s sides, tucking them into his own waistband. He pulls you towards the door, a hand on your back beneath the baby like he’s about to push you over the threshold. 

“Go outside, Mouse.” He cups your chin. “I need to finish this.” 

You barely make it two steps over the threshold before Ari fires another shot, and Robert’s pained wails instantly cease. You can smell it when he dies, raw and bloody and tinged with gunpowder, blocking out the scent of the coming rain. 

Ari is standing over Robert when you go back inside. 

“Mouse let’s get you to the truck.” He steps over the dead man’s twitching body. “I need to get you out of here before—”

“Before what, Mr. Levinson?” You look up to find yourself staring straight down the barrel of a shotgun. 

Andy stands at the other end of the hallway, the gun raised and steady, pointed directly at Ari. You know the only thing that’s stopped him from firing is your proximity—there’s no clean shot with you and Dove not three feet away. But Andy… his eyes are wild and fever-bright, a terrible expression on his handsome features. Ari isn’t afraid, his face is stone, shoulders squared and ready. 

“You’re not keeping her here.” He puts his body in front of yours as Andy raises the gun higher. 

“Honey come here.” You tense, but stay still. His eyes go wider. “I said come here!” 

“No, Andy.” Your voice is small and trembling, but it is yours. “You can’t—you can’t hurt me anymore.” 

“I’ve never—” He shakes his head. “All I’ve ever done was love you!” 

“Your love is fucking glass Andy!” You shout. “And you can’t hurt me with it anymore!” Your heart is beating so wildly in your chest that it hurts. “We’re leaving.” Andy laughs derisively. 

“And go where, Honey? There’s nowhere far enough that I wouldn’t bring you right fucking back.” He flicks back the hammer, and you flinch, covering your face. “I know all about your little lover boy, here,” he spits, before turning to Ari. “How was she? Pussy’s good, isn’t it?” 

Ari explodes outwards, pushing you out of the way before he grabs the barrel, pushing it up just as Andy squeezes the trigger. Splinters and plaster rain down on your heads as the shot goes off like a clap of thunder. Dove is fully awake and squalling now, screaming as you back away from the two men. The gun clatters to the floor as Ari punches Andy hard in the gut. 

You don’t see the knife until Andy swings it in a wide arc, and Ari lets out a pained grunt as it connects with his side. You watch, horrified as the blade sinks in to the hilt and Andy twists, a wicked grin on his face. 

“Ari!” 

He shoves Andy back hard, your captor hitting the wall with a satisfying thud. Ari grimaces, his bloody hand slipping on the handle as he fumbles to pull it out. 

“Go, Mouse!” He shouts. “Get to the truck now!” His eyes are wide, pleading. “You need to go!” 

He wants you to leave him. 

Your ears are ringing, blood pumping louder than your lover’s pleas, than your screaming baby. Ari wants you to run, to never look back. Andy is getting up again, straightening himself up to his full height, he is reaching for Ari again—

The gun.

It’s by your feet. 

In all of the confusion you’d barely noticed how close it was, the barrel pointed right at you. You bend down to pick it up. It’s heavy, heavier than the pistol Ari had given you to shoot, but you know the general principle is the same. Andy is on top of Ari now, fighting for the knife, trying to twist it in deeper. Slowly, so slowly it feels like you’re in a dream, you lift the shotgun. You rack it the way you’d seen in movies, the sharp sound making both of the men freeze instantly. 

“Get off of him.” When Andy doesn’t move, you press the muzzle to his back. “Get off.” 

He moves. 

At last you see Andrew Barber unmasked, his face contorted with fury. There is no tenderness in his gaze as he glares at you, stepping slowly away from Ari. Only hate. Andy’s eyes are dark, lips drawn back into an angry snarl. Andy hates you, and you wonder how he’d ever mistaken it for something as tender as love. He hated you for leaving, for living, and he hated you just as much now. His lips twist into a cruel smile.

“You gonna shoot me, Honeybee? You gonna kill your husband?” 

“You’re not my fucking husband!” You scream, brandishing the gun. “I’m leaving here, Andy!” 

“You’re not going to shoot me. You’re no killer, Sweetheart. Our baby’s on your back. You gonna put a slug in me in front of her?”

“If I have to.” You bite out through gritted teeth. His face twists. 

He lunges.

You aren’t expecting him to come for you, to try and wrestle the gun out of your hands the way Ari had done to him, but your finger is on the trigger, and he isn’t fast enough to avoid the slug. He’s thrown back against the wall, red spraying from his side. It’s so thick in the air that you can taste it, worse than Pronge. 

He lays there, twitching. 

You stare at each other, Andy gurgling and struggling for breath, still reaching for you even as you step away. You help Ari to his feet. He’s unsteady, leaning on you for support as the two of you slowly make your way back towards the door. Ari squeezes your shoulder, planting a kiss on your head as he limps alongside you. 

“Wait! Dove is s-still my daughter,” Andy spits blood onto the carpet, sputtering. “T-tell her—”

“No.” You say, shaking your head. Ari leans against the doorframe, watching as you turn back to Andy for the last time. He looks so small there, cowering against the wall as what’s left of his life flows out of him. He reaches for you weakly, bloody fingers skating against your calf. 

“She won’t even know your name.” 

🌹 

Epilogue

“Daddy! Daddy, daddy, daddy!” Dove bounces excitedly in the back seat, pointing at the sprawling old farmhouse as you approach. You can just see the slant of the roof over the tall, shifting grass, and the tiny figures of the construction workers standing on it. 

“Yes, that’s right,” you say, nodding encouragingly as you glance over your shoulder. “We’re going to surprise daddy.” 

“Sa-pies daddy,” she repeats seriously, before sticking her thumb into her mouth. You’ve barely had time to visit the construction site all week, once or twice at most. It feels like you’ve seen your husband even less, the lingering warmth on his side of the bed, or the sound of his tired footsteps at the door as you fall asleep has been the extent of your interactions. Between his work at the fire-station and getting the house ready, you feel like you’re living with a ghost. Ari had been tackling the farmhouse with the single-mindedness of a man possessed, his paint and wood-chip covered clothing often the only evidence of his passage.

You cut your eyes at the picnic basket on the passenger’s seat, the lunch you’d packed. 

I hope he likes it.

The guys at the gate wave at you as you turn down the driveway, and by the time you pull up to the house, your husband is already jogging down the stairs to meet you, a wide grin splitting his handsome face. You put the truck in park as he walks up to the driver’s side, leaning in the window to kiss you. 

“How are my girls?” He asks, and Dove giggles. 

“Sa-pies!” She claps her hands. “I sa-pies!” 

“I’m very surprised, Munchkin,” Ari says as helps you out of the car, and then returns to unbuckle Dove from her car seat. “To what do I owe the honor?” 

You heft the picnic basket. 

“Lunch,” you say, and he grabs the basket from you, clucking his tongue. 

“You know you’re not supposed to be lifting anything over fifty pounds.”

“Like that weighs fifty pounds.”

“Knowing you?” He asks, and you swat him playfully. Dove toddles over on her still unsteady legs and clings to Ari’s pant leg until he hoists her up with the other arm, throwing her over his shoulder. Your toddler screams with laughter. “C’mon, Mouse.” He jerks his head toward the house, where the sounds of construction are still going strong. “Let me show you.” 

The radio is still buzzing quietly in the truck’s empty cab, too low to be heard over buzzsaws and hammers. You lean in through the window, reaching for the knob to turn it off.  

Inside, the evidence of the construction is everywhere. The dated carpets have been pulled up, the beautiful hardwood beneath lovingly restored. The wallpaper—a horrible 70’s affair—is being steamed and scraped off. They’re in the middle of knocking down one of the walls to widen up the kitchen, and the construction workers stop to greet you. 

“Bonjour, Madame Levinson, it’s good to see you!” You look down, face burning. 

“Y-you too, Freddy.” Dove clings to your legs. 

You pass through the war-zone of a kitchen and out into the backyard, where your toddler begins pulling up handfuls of grass. 

“I’m so happy to see you.” Ari says, pulling you against his chest. “Missed you, Mouse.” You burrow in, wrapping your arms around him. They don’t touch, of course, he’s too broad. The v-neck of his henley exposes a hint of his chest hair, and you bury your nose in it. He laughs, tucking a finger beneath your chin and tilting it up to kiss you. 

“I missed you too,” you mumble against his lips. “Dove misses you.” 

“I’m trying to get the house ready for you know who,” he replies quietly, and his expression speaks to his earnestness. He squeezes your hip, passing a hand over the gentle, nearly imperceptible swell of your belly.

“Let’s eat.” 

—

A few hours after your late lunch, you put Dove to sleep in the back of the truck, rolling down the windows and putting a blanket over her little body. 

“She’s out for the count,” you reply laughing, shutting the door. “We should head home.” You make for the driver’s seat, but Ari stops you.

“Just a minute, you didn’t look upstairs.” He grabs your hand. “I want to show you.” 

“It’s finished?” You ask excitedly, turning back to the house. The guys have all gone home now, and it’s just the three of you. 

“Almost,” Ari replies. “When it is, we can leave the apartment for good. Finish moving everything in.” You let Ari lead you back inside, back past the unfinished projects on the first floor and up the steps to the second floor where you know he’s been hard at work. Dove’s room is painted a gentle blue, soft clouds sponged onto the walls and ceiling. In the master, the walls are a light, creamy yellow, one wall still unfinished.Tarps are draped over the floors and sparse furniture to protect them from the paint. 

“This wasn’t here before,” you tap an old, heavy looking dresser. It’s familiar—almost like one you and Ari had seen at an antiques market.

He grins. “It’s new.” 

“It was too expensive!” 

“I found it in the budget.” Ari grips your hips and you laugh, resting your hands on his shoulders. The muscles are solid beneath the thick cotton. “Besides, the bar’s doing well, I can afford a little splurge.” 

“It was five hundred dollars.” 

“A steal.” Ari holds you, swaying slowly from side to side. The movement is comforting, and you lean into it, and to him. He threads his fingers through yours. “You like it?”

He’d been working hard to make this house a home, he knows how much it means to you to have a place that’s yours, that you got to be a part of, not just a fixture in. You’d picked the paint colors, the flooring, the light fixtures, even the things you didn’t care about Ari made sure to consult you on. 

“I love it.” 

Ari kisses you again, and shyly you touch your tongue to the seam of his lips. He hums. “I love you, Mouse.” 

Those words don’t swarm and suffocate the way they used to, not when Ari says them. No, when he says them, you feel like you can fly. 

“I love you too.” No coercion, no prompting—you say it because you want to, because you want him to know you still feel the same. With the freedom he has given you, you have chosen Ari, and that makes all the difference. He kisses you again, and this time it isn’t the chaste touching of lips from earlier. 

Ari surges around you like a tidal wave, his mouth hungrily devouring yours as he picks you up. You wrap your legs around his waist as he walks you over to the old chaise lounge that had been in the farmhouse likely longer than you’d been alive, and sets you down on the worn surface. You’re fumbling with the button on your jeans, only freeing them a moment before he begins working them down your thighs. 

Your panties go somewhere, you aren’t quite sure where—Ari always manages to do away with them while you aren’t looking, he must have a growing collection of them—

And then all thoughts are lost as he wrenches your thighs apart and runs a slow finger up your slit. You shiver, torn between the shame you’ve learnt and the desire to pull him closer. You, settle for tangling your fingers in his hair.   He moans unabashedly when your blunt nails press against his scalp, and he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. God. He reaches up to pluck at your nipples with one hand, slapping yours away. 

“You’re so wet already, Mouse,” he says lowly. “Supposed to at least put it on my tongue first, Baby.” You clench around nothing and whine his name.

“Ari please.” 

It’s like his name on your lips is a signal, and he leans forward circling your clit with his lips and tongue. Your hips jerk fingers tightening in your husband—your real husband, the ceremony had been small but it had been legal and true—grins wickedly against you. 

“God I love how you taste.” You don’t get a chance to respond, the quick flicking of his tongue against you while his thick fingers press into your entrance is almost enough to bring you to the edge. “Tastes like mine.” 

“O-oh God, A-Ari!” The words trip over themselves in their haste to get out of your mouth as you rock against his face. “Mmm, oh, I—” Your husband wraps his arms around your thighs. The pleased noises he makes as he tastes you are almost as good as his tongue on your clit. You’re drowning in him, in loving and being loved by Ari, and you never, ever want it to stop. 

You convulse, panting and whining as you succumb. Thighs trembling and hips pushing hard against Ari’s welcoming mouth. He leaves you there for a moment, dazed as he begins working at his shirt, pulling it up over his head. You help him with the belt, biting your lip when the thick, hard length of him springs out to tap against your cheek. You slide from the chaise to your knees on the floor, peering up at him through your lashes. 

With one barely steady hand you encircle the base of him—as much as you can, anyway, your fingers don’t even come close to touching. You brush your lips against the head of him in a soft kiss, and you relish the sound of his breath catching, the soft “Fuck” that slips from his lips. He wants to rush forward, you can tell, the tightness in his twitching thighs as you lave a bolder, hungrier kiss along the veiny side of your husband’s cock tells you the truth of it. 

Ari groans, his fingers finding their place in your loose hair and pulling. You hum, cunt clenching jealously around nothing. You take as much as you can of him into your throat, tongue nearly meeting your fingers at the base before pulling back, a thin strand of your own drool connecting the throbbing head of his cock to your swollen lips. You try to do to him what he does to you, circling the head of him with your soft mouth, tracing the throbbing vein on the underside with your tongue until your nose brushes his swollen balls—

And then Ari is pulling you off of him with a curse, tugging you down to the couch and across his lap, hands against the back of the sofa for balance. He shoves your dress up over your hip, groaning as his cock slides against your slick heat. You reach between your bodies to line him up, and Ari curses again  as his tip presses into your tight entrance. You brace your hand against his chest as he surges up and into you, driving the breath from your lungs. 

“Mmm, fuck,” the old loveseat creaks dangerously beneath you, but Ari either doesn’t hear it, or doesn’t care. You moan into the crook of his neck, teeth catching against his skin and Ari’s fingers flex on your hips in response, tightening as he drives into you again, harder. You’re babbling in response, half formed words and pleas falling from your lips in time to the wet sticky noise punctuating each thrust. 

Despite his grip you attempt to grind down, bouncing on the hard dick between your legs. Ari groans, reaching up to tug down the neckline of your dress. He leans down to catch one of your puffy nipples in his mouth, rolling it between his tongue and teeth. He switches from one to the other and back again, the sensation making you squeeze down around his cock. Ari releases them with a pop to kiss you again, teeth finding your swollen bottom lip and worrying it until you open your mouth and allow his tongue to sweep inside. 

The feel of him splitting you open, his tongue in your mouth, hand on your hip, God it’s almost too much. Ari reaches between your bodies to flick at your clit with the pad of his thumb, tongue curling against the shell of your ear—

“C’mon Mouse, let me feel you.”

You don’t have much of a choice, cumming with a pathetic little whine. Ari thrusts into the tight, clenching center of you once, twice more before his thighs twitch and tremble as he holds you in place while he empties into you. 

“Fuck, mmm,” he mumbles nonsense into your hair as he presses kisses to the top of your head. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, laying your head on his bare chest. His hands find their way up under your dress to stroke your back. You bask in Ari’s love, pressing a soft kiss to his sweat-damp skin. You’d never thought you could have this, that you deserved it, were worthy of it, but Ari shows you every day that he believes it—even when you don’t. 

Gingerly he lifts you off of him, eyes gleaming with what you can only describe as male pride at the mess he’d made of you. The half-finished bathroom has hot water, and you clean yourself up as best you can while fending off your husband’s attempts at a second round. 

Dove is still fast asleep on the back seat of the truck, and she barely even stirs when you tuck her into her car seat, fastening the seatbelt around her little body. 

“Let me drive.” 

You get yourself settled in the passenger’s seat and Ari’s hand takes up its place on your thigh, squeezing affectionately. The engine roars to life, and soon the back country prairie roads give way to the bustling little town. Ari reaches for the radio knob as Dove begins to stir, fussing. It soothes her, the static-y sound coming through the stereo. In place of music, however, the grim voice of a radio-host is what you hear instead. 

“In international news, the city of Boston is still reeling as the State Attorney’s office continues to roll back the layers of Barber’s deception. Nearly a year ago today Barber’s body was discovered in the charred remains of his home, which also contained evidence of over a decade’s worth of bribes, false evidence, and a network of contacts up to and including wanted criminals, federal judges, prosecutors, and even politicians—”

“You okay, Mouse?” He asks, and for an instant that fragile, broken woman resides in your skin again, staring out through your eyes. For a moment you can smell the sterile musk of Andy’s basement, his horrible cologne, but you blink and it’s gone, replaced with Dove’s lingering baby-smell and the scent of Ari’s aftershave. It’s old fear, old fear that has no home in you any longer. That fear had paralyzed you once, kept you small and docile—but now you simply swat it away, reaching for the radio. You turn the knob, switching it abruptly to another station. 

“I’m good.” You reply, smiling. You actually mean it. You squeeze Ari’s hand and he squeezes back. “I’m good.”