Stress Relief

A song had been stuck in your head for days. Not really a song, but a line from a song, and it was going to drive you insane. Instead of the obvious, easy route, you decided to dig deep in the depths of your brain to figure out where you knew the song from... and yet, nothing. 

I never felt alone... until I met you.

Finally, it dawned on you. Surely you hadn’t heard the Third Eye Blind song since you were at least 13, but it had crept back into your mind and it had planted itself there for the long haul. Deep roots, dragging you back in time to something simpler, well before you even knew what the was even about. 

You opened your laptop and pulled up the YouTube website, typing in the song’s name and clicking on the first result. Four minutes later you sighed heavily and closed your laptop again. These days, it felt like all you did was sign loudly and stare out of the window between your work calls and meetings. The outside world was hardly what it once was. The streets were nearly empty, and those you did see weren’t strolling comfortably. They were rushing, point A to point B without exposing themselves to too many people. Glancing down at your closed laptop, you shook your head. Why did you think a song was going to make you feel better? 

“I really thought that was going to help,” you muttered to yourself. It didn’t help, though. It was still stuck inside of your head, and it had been that way since you’d happened upon the most charismatic, charming, inviting man you’d ever met in your life. Why would someone you barely spoke with in passing have such an impact on you? You sighed again and wandered away from your room, decidedly plopping on the couch to watch TV. You had an appointment at 4:30 and that gave you just enough time to disassociate for a while. Anything was better than dealing with your issues. 

“Good afternoon, Y/N,” your therapist, Dr. Rickerts, greeted you as you sat down across from him and adjusted your mask. It was always fogging up your glasses.

“Afternoon,” you replied gently and fumbled with the hem of your shirt. 

“How have things been?” 

You shrugged. “Honestly? I don’t know. I feel like nothing has changed. It’s the same thing every single day. Every day is the same. Wake up, log into my computer, work eight hours, clock out, go to the gym, come home, eat dinner, relax, watch T.V., go to sleep....” you trailed off with a shrug. “Then wake up and do it all over again.” 

“Last week we discussed new hobbies. Did you decide on any?” he asked, jotting notes down that you wish you had access to read. 

“Yeah,” you replied with a brief nod. “A few days ago, I went to a cooking class. It was so weird, because you can’t see anyone smile through the masks. Everyone’s in their own bubble. It’s depressing.” 

“Have you considered that you’ve been in your own bubble since before the pandemic?” 

“Yes, that’s why I’m here,” you said dryly. Sometimes you wondered why you paid this man so much to point out the obvious. 

It was clear he was frowning. The mask didn’t hide his eyebrows furrowed into a flattened v. “Do you think this is helping you, Y/N?”

You exhaled deeply and took your glasses off, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “I don’t know, honestly. I really don’t know. I want to say yes, and I want to say no. I feel like I could get more resolution if I just went on a sabbatical.” 

He laughed, short but genuine. “Where would you go?” 

You leaned back and rested your head against the couch. “I think I would probably go to Greece. I need a tan. Maybe I’d learn something about Persephone or Aphrodite. I heard if you swim around Aphrodite’s rock three times, you’ll find true love.” 

“Do you think true love is what you need?” 

“Nah.” You paused and sat up. “But it wouldn’t be so bad to have someone to talk to about my dreams, or someone to watch a movie with now and then. I feel that’s pretty reasonable, don’t you?” 

He put his pen down and folded his hands together. “I think if that’s what you want, and you’re being smart and safe, it’s not bad to go for it.” 

You nodded silently and then put your glasses back on. “It’s cheaper than going to Greece, too.” 

“Well let’s find some healthy, safe ways for you to interact with people.” 

And so the hunt was on. Maybe you should go to the cooking class that was being offered tonight. Maybe he would be there. What did he say his name was again? 

Things with Peter had seemed to accelerate once you’d both admitted that you had true feelings for one another. It seemed cliche and made you incredibly uncomfortable when you thought about how much of a stereotype you were becoming. Damaged girl meets class act boy, falls in love, hides feelings due to traumatic past, but in the end it’s all sunshine and rainbows. 

Unless it wasn’t. 

Your relationship with the handsome former MLB player was going so well, in fact, that a few weeks after you’d shared your feelings he asked if you wanted to move in with him. It was conveniently timed as your lease was up soon, and you’d begun to feel even more connected to Peter. 

In a bold move, you’d begun packing and had informed your landlord that you’d be moving out at the end of the month. You kept the days in check on your calendar and found yourself growing giddy at the thought of moving in with him. 

“But what if I snore really loud?” you’d asked one evening, your head in his lap as he brushed your hair back from your face. 

“You do.” His answer was factual but he laughed despite the preciseness of his response. 

You gasped and swatted at his hands to prevent him from touching you. “That’s a lie. You’re the one who snores, honestly. It’s so bad. It’s like I live in the woods of the Pacific Northwest and you’re a lumberjack who works overtime to meet his tree quota.” 

He rolled his eyes dismissively and stood up, sliding you off of the couch and onto the floor in one swift movement. “You’ve thought long and hard about how you were going to describe that, didn’t you?” 

From the floor, you poked your bottom lip out and grumbled loudly. “I can’t believe you just left me down here.” 

Peter was silent until he came back into the living room with a bottle of wine and two glasses, sitting on the floor next to you with a thud. “I came back.” 

“How sweet of you,” you replied dryly, but accepted the glass he handed you and took a sip of the bitter red wine he poured for you. 

“Kind of hard to believe in just two weeks you’re going to be living here. We’ve already got movers ready, and your apartment is back up for rent. I even cleared out half of the closet for you,” he explained and carefully pulled you towards him with his arm around your shoulders. “Honestly I’m kind of nervous.” 

“Nervous why?” you asked and peered up at him curiously. 

He shrugged and drank a little more from his glass before answering. “It’s a big step. A good step, but a big step. I think it’s normal to feel nervous. Aren’t you?” 

“No, not at all.” Your answer was too quick - and something in Peter’s eyes made you think that he was onto your games. But, if he knew, he didn’t say a word. How terrible would he feel if you told him that you’d become nearly sick thinking about moving in with him and how it was going to uproot your routine and your life. It was a selfish thought. If Peter cared enough for you to change his lifestyle for you, why weren’t you being just as open minded? 

Peter seemed like he was under more stress than usual when you saw him that evening. He was short but polite, almost as if he had something eating away at him that he wouldn’t say. The only thing that really struck you as odd was that he insisted that you stay in, and that he would prefer it be at your place even though nearly everything you owned was packed up and waiting to be shipped off to his apartment. 

“You seem like something’s really bothering you, and I know it’s probably work. I just want you to know that if there’s anything I can do to make your life easier, I’ll do it,” you reminded him as you wrapped up your paper plate takeout meal. 

He smiled meekly and placed his hand on yours. “I appreciate that, Y/N. I really appreciate how good you are to me and how much I can trust you and depend on you even when I feel like I’m a burden.” 

Your smile melted into a frown almost immediately. It was like he’d read your diary - or he had bugged your mind and was able to hear your every thought. “You’re never a burden. In fact, I truly enjoy helping you. It makes me happy to know I’m making you happy.” 

“Why are you frowning?” he asked, but you waved him off and stood up to clean up the night’s mess. 

“I just don’t like to see you sad.” 

“Can’t be happy all the time. That’s not reasonable.” 

You shrugged and leaned against the counter in your empty kitchen, folding your arms across your chest. “I know. But I’d like to think if I tried hard enough I could make you happy, infinitely.” 

“You already do, I promise...” he trailed off with a sigh and stood up, closing the space between your bodies so he could wrap you in his arms. “I love you, Y/N. I don’t mean to leave so suddenly but I’ve got a huge case I’m working on and it’s gonna take up some of my time - more than usual anyway. Please, please lock the door once I’m gone and don’t answer it if you don’t 100% know who it is. Alright?” 

“Okay, I’ll be extra cautious. Is there something I should be worried about?” You buried your face against his neck and pressed gentle kisses against his skin, lingering for a moment before you pulled away. 

“I..” he began, but stopped. “No, it’s just this case that’s got my mind working in overdrive and I just want you to be extra cautious. You’re one of the most important people in my life and I don’t want anything happening to you.” 

Communication with Peter had been somewhat spotty in the days leading up to your move. In fact, you’d only gotten one text back despite the few you’d sent him, and it was a very simple “okay” - very unlike him. You chalked it up to jitters, maybe he was worried about you moving in or maybe that case really was trying his patience. 

The day before you were scheduled to move in with Peter, you sat in your office at work and read the closed captioning on the television. There had been some sort of trafficking case that had gone terribly wrong and it looked like it ended in casualties. Several names were scrolling across the bottom of the screen as you continued reading, until one name in particular scrolled across the screen and appeared with a picture. 

Pamela Stone. 

You stood up from your desk and grabbed your cellphone, stepping outside into the hallway for privacy. 

“You’ve reached the voicemail of ADA Peter Stone. Please leave a message.” 

You hung up and immediately called his office. 

“ADA Peter Stone’s office. How may I help you?” Carmen greeted politely. 

“Carmen, it’s Y/N. Is Peter in his office?” Your heart was pounding in your ears and you felt like you were going to pass out onto the floor. 

“Y/N, I’m not sure if you heard...” she murmured into the phone. 

“I just.. yes, I heard. Please tell me he’s there? I can’t get up with him and I’m worried...” 

She sighed into the receiver. “I’m so sorry, but I haven’t seen him since yesterday. I haven’t been able to reach him, either.” 

“Okay.. thank you, Carmen. Have a good day. I’ll speak with you again soon.” 

Carmen reciprocated and you hung up the phone. 

You walked back into the office and marched immediately to your office manager’s desk. “I need to leave.” 

She looked up at you and gasped. “Oh honey you look like you seen a ghost!”

“Something like that. I’ll call you later,” you said and you turned on your heel to leave, listening to the popping of her gum as you grabbed your things and fled the office. 

Peter wasn’t at his apartment. In fact, it didn’t look like he’d been there in a few days. When you unlocked the door and stepped inside it felt empty - as if there hadn’t been a soul present in sometime. The dishes in the sink spoke volumes about his time spent at home. It indicated very little. You scribbled him a note that read 

Please call me. I’m so worried about you. I love you. x

And with that, you skipped over his office and went straight to SVU. Someone was bound to know where he was, and someone had to know what happened. Was this the case that he’d been talking about making him nervous? How did his sister, who was quite ill, end up in the middle of it all? Who would kill someone so innocent?

“May I help you?” the guard at the reception desk asked. 

“Hi, yes, I hope so. I’m looking for ADA Peter Stone,” you explained, taking a quick glance at your phone to see if he’d called you back. Nothing. 

“Ma’am, this isn’t the ADA’s office.” 

You gritted your teeth and smiled with a clenched jaw. “Yes, I know. But he wasn’t in his office nor at his home, and I know he’s the ADA for SVU. Can I speak with Lieutenant Benson?” 

He stood up and held his hand up to you to stay where you were. “Hang on, let me see if I can get someone to help you.” 

A few minutes later the Lieutenant came walking towards you and guided you back to her office. She said nothing as you walked past the desks of the working detectives who all looked like they were exhausted and defeated. 

“First of all, I just want to say it’s really nice to meet you finally, Y/N,” she said as she shut the door behind you and took a seat at her desk. 

“Thank you, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m sorry that I just showed up. I didn’t know where else to go, honestly,” you explained and wrung your hands in your lap absently. 

“I’m really sorry but Peter hasn’t been here, either.” 

You nodded to state that you understood and stayed silent. 

“When did you hear from him last?” 

“Yesterday morning. And then I saw on the news today when I was at work... about his sister...” you trailed off and began tapping your foot on the floor nervously. 

“After everything that happened last night, I wouldn’t be surprised if he needed some time.” 

“Oh, yes. I know. I just want to make sure that he’s okay.” 

On her desk, the Lieutenant’s phone rang. You glanced down just in time to see Peter’s name appear on the screen. 

“If you’ll excuse me for just a moment,” she said and shot up, heading into an interrogation room to take the call. 

You sighed in defeat. Peter was ignoring you. Fair enough, but it was a little too much for you to swallow at the time. While Benson was on her call with Peter, you silently left her office and the precinct. 

Once out on the street, you made one more phone call. 

“Tell me a little more about your relationship with your mother.” 

You groaned internally and nodded, thinking back to early memories with your mom. Doctor Harper was going for the kill shot early in your session, but the sooner you started talking, the quicker the session would go. 

“When I was little we were really close. We had matching nightgowns. I always wanted to play in her make up, and she always included me in the things that she was doing, whether it was cooking or cleaning or sewing. She made it really clear that I was very important to her.” Shrugging, you looked up at your therapist for a response. 

“Go on,” Doctor Harper said gently. 

“After my parents got divorced, obviously you know they didn’t live in the same house anymore, and with my Dad’s schedule at the time I had no choice but to live with my Mom. We actually moved pretty far away from my Dad, which was hard and I know that I resented her for it. Anyway, living so far away from him sucked and I missed him a lot, but she wouldn’t let me speak to him. She started seeing this new guy and we didn’t do anything together anymore. We never talked. I was becoming a woman so to speak, and I couldn’t even ask her questions about my changing body without her getting irritated. I tried too hard to build our relationship up to where it was before and when she didn’t help me bridge it, I was angry. She was never home anymore, either, so I felt really kicked to the curb.” 

“And how was your relationship when you were a teenager, and when you were a young adult?” he asked. He took a sip of water from his bottle and set it back down, keeping a steady gaze on you. 

“As a teenager she blamed me for her financial issues because she had to pay child support. I ended up living with her for a while when I was a teenager but she wasn’t even remotely the same woman I knew growing up. She made me wear make up everyday, no matter where I was going, and she made me go on a diet and changed my style of clothing. She made me feel so bad about myself that the entire 7 months I lived with her, I was throwing up after I ate anything. It... it was bad,” you said with a heavy exhale. You’d never told anyone about the abuse you struggled to understand when you were living with your mother, and it honestly felt good to get it off your chest. 

“I can see how that would make your relationship incredibly difficult.” 

“And as a young adult she was spiraling downward. She would call me and scream at me, curse me out just because she could. She would pit me against anyone she possibly could, and she would lie about me to anyone who would listen. It was..” you paused, and narrowed your eyes involuntarily. “It was fucking terrible.” 

“Tell me what exactly makes it terrible, Y/N.” He was encouraging you and keeping his eyes intently on you. His notepad was on the table, untouched, as he allowed you to express yourself without holding back. 

“I can’t trust her. I never know when she’s going to snap or when she’s going to try to make someone hate me. It’s given me such a complex!” you nearly screamed, clenching your fists in anger. “What am I supposed to do now? Everyone I meet is someone else that could love me and leave me to rot just like she’s done everytime it’s convenient for her. I can’t even imagine how shitty it would be if she was still with my Dad. Imagine.. imagine the shitshow powerhouse they’d be? I’m glad they’re not together anymore but I wish they’d just get the fuck over themselves.” 

You hadn’t realized it but you’d begun to cry. Doctor Harper leaned forward and handed you a box of tissues, which you took so that you could clean up the mess of mascara that was running down your cheeks. 

“Y/N, do you think that everyone is going to turn on you?” he asked as he leaned back into the comfort of his chair. 

You merely shrugged and sniffled, dabbing at your eyes with your tissue. “I don’t know. I don’t want to think they will but if I don’t expect it I’m vulnerable and open for more hurt.” 

“Tell me something...” he trailed off and then squared his shoulders. “Do you think that Peter is going to do something like that to you? That he’s going to leave you because he’s .. what, tired of you?” 

Fighting back more tears, you rolled your eyes indifferently. “I don’t think so.” 

“Alright. Let me ask you a few more questions, Y/N.” 

“O-okay.. go ahead.” 

“Have you and Peter had intimate relations?” 

You nodded your head. 

“And what happened after?” 

“We went to sleep. The next morning he took me to get breakfast and when I went home later, he texted me to see how I was periodically,” you said with a half shrug. 

“How long have you and Peter been together?” 

You had to think about it, which was slightly embarrassing, but you counted the months in your head. “Last week was 9 months. But we haven’t said that we love one another.” 

“Do you love him?” 

To say you were growing irritated was an understatement. “I don’t know if I really even know what that is at this point.” 

The receptionist buzzed into the office, a sign that the session was over. You quickly gathered your things and headed for the door. “See you next week,” you said blandly and exited his office. 

Peter was waiting outside of your apartment when you got home that evening, and it was evident that he immediately noticed the tear stains on your cheeks you’d been hiding behind sunglasses on you way home. 

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked as you approached. 

“What do you mean?” you faked innocence and unlocked the door to your apartment and pulled him inside with you. 

He sighed and shut the door behind him, peeling off his suit jacket and laying it over the back of the highback stool at your bar. “You look like you’ve been crying, babe.” 

“Oh, no,” you waved him off with a laugh. “Allergies. They’ve been brutal today.” 

“Y/N...” he said softly and pulled you to him, wrapping you tightly in a hug. “If something’s wrong, if something happened, please tell me. I just want you to be happy.” 

Silently to yourself, you laughed. If only he knew. But, you reminded yourself, he didn’t, and he didn’t need the extra stress of your issues on top of his already overbearing stress. 

“I care about you so much and I don’t like the idea of you hurting or being hurt. So, just know that I’m always here for you,” he promised and kissed the top of your head before releasing you from his loving hold. 

“I appreciate that, Peter. And I appreciate you. Let’s order Chinese, okay? I’m starving and I want to lay down with you and cuddle,” you admitted, immediately blushing. 

He smiled and began unbuttoning the sleeves of his shirt to roll them up. “We don’t have to wait, you know. C’mere.” 

You allowed yourself to be enveloped his his embrace once more, burying your face against his chest. “I missed you all day,” you confessed with a content sigh. 

“I miss you everyday, Y/N,” he murmured and twisted the ends of your hair around his fingers tenderly. 

“Do you really?” 

“Mhmm, I promise. Hand to God,” he said with a soft laugh. “Look at me.”

You tilted your head back and met his gaze with a smile. “What?” 

“I want to tell you something,” he began, before pressing his lips against yours for a long, supple kiss. He pulled away and nuzzled his nose against yours. “But it’s important.” 

“Oh God. You’re pregnant?” you joked, but stopped when Peter feigned frustration and pulled you towards your couch. 

“No, I’m serious, Y/N.” 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” You sat down and turned to face him, allowing him to take your hands in his with a tight squeeze. 

“We’ve been together for a while now, and I’ve loved every single moment we’ve been together. I love the way you make me laugh, the way you’re playful, how intelligent you are and how dedicated you are to your career, and how you make me want to be a better person.” He paused for a moment and looked down at your hands in his pensively. 

Oh God, he’s breaking up with me.... you thought to yourself, slowly pulling your hands away from his. 

“Wait, I’m not done,” he insisted and pulled you closer to him again. “I want you to know something, and you don’t have to say anything about it I just.. want you to know.” 

You nodded slowly and felt like you were going to throw up, swallowing hard. 

“Y/N, I wanted to tell you how much I love you,” Peter finally said after agonizing moments that felt like ages. “And you don’t have to say anything, or do anything, and if you don’t love me that’s fine, I just can’t keep it to myself anymore.” 

“Peter,” you sighed and pulled your hands from his to cup his face. “I.. love you, too, and it terrifies me so much. I don’t know how to handle it, and I’ve.. honestly, never in my life felt like this with anyone.” 

“Please don’t be terrified,” he insisted and pecked your lips softly with a few quick kisses. “If I can do anything to make you feel less afraid, I want to do it.” 

“No, no, you’re so wonderful,” you quickly replied and wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace. “I love you.” 

He snaked his arms securely around your waist and pulled you flush against him. “Thank God. I was so worried you’d think I was some jackass lawyer and now, even though maybe I am a jackass lawyer, you love me. I could take on the Supreme Court fearlessly now.” 

Your laugh filled the room as you threw your head back in amusement. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, ADA Stone.” 

“Never, sweetheart.” He sighed in relief and laid his head against your shoulder. “God, I feel so much better now.” 

It was an unbearably cold day in January when you began seeing your therapist, Doctor Harper, for the unresolved issues you’d been carrying around for years. Your boyfriend, Peter, had suggested you speak to someone after you realized that you were staying awake and staring at the ceiling most nights, consumed by the thoughts of things that were seemingly gone and forgotten. Of course, Peter didn’t know that, he just knew that you felt like you had anxiety and that it was causing you to have concerns about your well being. 

A few sessions with Doctor Harper had you feeling like there was a lot that Peter didn’t know, maybe even a lot that you never wanted him to know. He had so many problematic cases at work, why did he need to see that when you were together, too? 

Peter was handsome, educated, and charming. He was an ADA in New York City and he was a former baseball player as well. He was impressive in every way possible, and after the men you’d courted in the past you couldn’t stand the thought of losing someone who exceeded every expectation you’d had in your ideal partner. 

That was something that Doctor Harper liked to bring up. He was tapping away at the surface of your iceberg of emotions and had settled into the corner of Peter Stone, boy wonder. 

“Have you told Peter that you’re seeing a therapist?” Doctor Harper would ask towards the beginning of each session, as always. Today was no different, even though today marked the 20th time you’d seen Doctor Harper. 

You shook your head and averted your gaze to the window. “No. I don’t know how he’ll take it, honestly. I’d like to imagine that he would be loving and understanding as he always is with me, but no one is ever that consistent. Are they?” 

He pursed his lips together in thought and then shrugged. “I don’t think any two people are the same when it’s all said and done, Y/N. You’ve experienced things in your life that have led you to believe, rightfully, that people aren’t always as honest or as good as they should be, no matter the relationship. It’s understandable that you’d be concerned that your relationship could be jeopardized if you told him about your therapy sessions and he found them unnecessary or even ridiculous.” 

“Yeah,” you agreed and let out a small sigh, turning your gaze back to your therapist. “I remember when I was suffering from mania and depression back to back to back the summer that I was 16, and I begged my Dad for help, but he told me that I was dramatic. And when I was suicidal because I was so exhausted and confused, unable to keep a handle on my emotions, he told me that if I was going to do it to do it right, because he didn’t want a vegetable for a daughter.” 

Casually making notes as you spoke, Doctor Harper nodded understandingly and made soft mhmm noises to himself. “You said that Peter works with people who had experienced very bad things, is that correct?” 

“It is.” 

“Do you think that would give him an advantage to be on your side?” he offered. 

You bit your bottom lip for a moment and then folded your hands in your lap. “You’d think so, but what if he decides that’s just another stress that he doesn’t need in his life and decides to find someone who isn’t such a pain in the ass?” 

“You are not a pain in the ass, Y/N. You’re a human being, and you’re deserving of love and affection just as much as the next person,” he stated factually and took his glasses off, placing them on the table next to his chair. “If anything, don’t you think that you awareness to your challenges makes you more lovable? I would think so.” 

“You have to say that. I’m paying you to like me,” you said with a genuine laugh. 

Doctor Harper matched your amusement with a chuckle of his own. “That’s not true. I don’t like half the people I see.” 

Later that evening you had plans to meet Peter for dinner at a restaurant near his office. You pulled your cardigan tightly around your frame as you walked into the eatery and spotted him sitting in a booth waiting for your arrival. 

“I’m so sorry I kept you waiting,” you apologized as you approached. 

Peter smiled and rose from his seat, greeting you with a kiss on the cheek and a warm embrace. “You’re early. I was just earlier.” 

“How was your day?” The question was always asked, even if you’d spoken ten times that day. You always wanted to know how he was feeling, and he was the same for you. 

“The same as always, but not bad. I’m working with SVU to bust a ring of pedophiles but it’s proving to be a little more tricky than I would have anticipated just because of the clientele involved. How about you? What did you do after work? It was your early day today, right?” 

You nodded. It was your early day, but every Wednesday was your early day because it was your therapy day. “Yeah, it was my early day. I got some errands done once I left the office, which was good because it’ll free me up this weekend. Speaking of, if you’re not busy...” 

“Go on,” he insisted, reaching out to grasp onto your hand tenderly. If anything, Peter was good about encouraging you to speak up. It was something that he’d been doing since you met all those months ago. 

“Well...” you hesitated, but pressed on as he squeezed your hand and offered you a smile. “There’s a movie that’s coming out on Friday and I was thinking maybe we could go see it Saturday night? If you’re not too busy. I know you’ve got so much on your plate so I won’t be mad if you don’t want to go, or you can’t -” 

“Y/N,” Peter sighed and pulled his hands away from yours. “I want to, and I can, so we will.” 

“Oh, okay. Great!” you forced a smile and bit back the nauseating feeling of being irritating. “Let’s order, okay? I’m starving.” 

That night once Peter dropped you at your apartment and you’d said your goodbyes, you found yourself once again lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. Doctor Harper had suggested taking some melatonin but it wasn’t doing you any favors tonight. You’d even gone so far as to leave your windows cracked, but only at the advice of Peter who told you to never unlock the window near the fire escape unless there was an actual fire. So, as Peter had said, unless Spiderman comes climbing into your room, I think you’re safe opening the windows on the other side of the room. Plus, a cooler room was meant to encourage better sleep, just not for you. 

After about an hour you rolled over and grabbed your phone, sending Peter a quick message. 

Y/N: I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate how good you are to me. 

Peter: You deserve to be treated like a princess, and I’m glad that you feel that I give you that. 

Y/N: I’m lucky that I found you. Sorry if I woke you. I just wanted to let you know. 

Peter: I promise you that I’m the lucky one. You didn’t wake me angel, don’t worry. I was just wrapping up a few emails. You’re not sleepy are you?

Y/N: No... unfortunately not. :( 

Peter: Want some company...? 

Y/N: Pls, yes. 

The morning of your father’s funeral couldn’t have been more stereotypical. While the days before had been sunny and clear, that morning you woke up to the sound of rain tapping against the window of your childhood bedroom. 

Sonny was already awake, having showered and dressed, and was downstairs helping keep things coordinated and controlled. You could hear his voice down the stairs through gritted teeth begging your nephews to sit still for just a moment so he could turn on the television and get them something to eat while everyone else was getting ready. 

After a long shower filled with contemplation, you dressed in a sleek black pantsuit and clasped your favorite strand of pearls around your neck. Your hair dried naturally into a frizz of curls which you pinned back but didn’t smooth - the rain wouldn’t allow for any such thing, anyway, and your father had always loved your “crazy hair” as he put it. 

Downstairs, you found Sonny eating drinking coffee and staring out of the kitchen window. Your nephews were indulging in cartoons and your brother and sister in law were in the living room fussing over what tie the nephews should wear. 

“Good morning Prince Charming,” you whispered as you brushed past Sonny, pausing only to press a kiss to the top of his head. “We have to leave in about ten minutes.” 

He grasped onto your wrist as you moved past him and pulled you back towards him, planting you in his lap. “I already made you coffee and there’s toast in the oven.” 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed him tenderly several times and then pulled away sighing. “When this is all over, can we go away?” 

“Just say where.” He squeezed you gently and nuzzled his face against your neck. 

“Anywhere but here. You know I was happy to leave here. I don’t like being back too much,” you admitted and wriggled away from him so that you could put something in your stomach before the funeral. 

You shook your head silently to yourself as you sipped your coffee and nibbled at the toast that had been waiting for you, warm in the oven. The dread was settling in - and while you knew the grief would be there for ages to follow, you held steadfast to the idea that something was going to go wrong at the funeral home. 

“We gather here today to celebrate a life of love, laughter, happiness, and dedication....” 

“He was known for his character - he could make you laugh anytime, anywhere. We could surely use something like that here with us today.” 

“I met him when I was just 10, and he was 9....” 

The stories went on for sometime as you sat in the family room, tucked under Sonny’s arm and softly sobbing each time you thought you’d gotten a grasp on your emotions for the moment. 

“The faithful departed will always be in our hearts and minds. I was thankful to meet this kind, gracious man because of his daughter, Y/N, who as you all probably know was my best friend for the longest time...” 

You sat upright and stiffened, your body entirely rigid at the familiar voice sharing a story about your father. It couldn’t be, there was no way. 

“I spent so much time with the family that I felt like I was part of it, and he never let me feel any different. Even after Y/N moved away unexpectedly, I spent so much time at their home. He truly felt like he was my father, too,” he continued. 

You could have sworn that even though you were hidden from view, he was looking directly at you. 

Rising from your seat, you grabbed your clutch and walked out - out of the family room, down the hall, and out of the funeral home. It was still raining and you hurried through puddles and raindrops to get to the safety of the smoker’s cove, finally slowing to a stop once you were under the awning. Sonny hadn’t followed you, probably stuck with one of your nephews begging to play with his phone or to wear his watch, like they loved to do anytime someone “new” was around.

“Look at you.” Puddles splashing caught your attention as you turned to find your former best friend, Connor, standing in front of you with his hands in his pockets. 

“My father would appreciate you being here,” you replied, attempting to remain casual. 

“He would have appreciated you staying here instead of running away,” he replied smugly, a smirk pulling at his lips. 

You took a step back and folded your arms. “That wasn’t gonna happen and you know it.” 

Connor let out a small laugh and stepped towards you, careful to leave enough space to seem harmless. “You overreacted. You’re good at that, y’know? Overreacting, that is. Never were too good at holding your liquor, but I guess you remember all about that, don’t you?” 

“Look,” you began, holding a hand up to silence him and figuratively stop him from moving foward again. “I’ve come to terms with what happened that night. I know it was fucked up and -” 

“Yeah it was pretty fucked up how you just left after you finally acted on your feelings. You ran away.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him and scowled. “I never acted on anything. Clearly you don’t remember what happened like I remember.” 

From behind, you heard a door slam but the rain had begun to fall harder and silenced anything beyond the seconds of noise you were able to distinguish. 

“You had a few too many drinks and we had sex. You woke up the next morning and freaked out like a child, and I never saw you again. I found out a week later you’d moved.” He rolled his eyes dismissively and reached into his suit pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes, one of which he promptly lit. 

“Did you hear yourself? I was drunk, and when I woke up I had no recollection of the night before. Instead of owning what you did and admitting you were a disgusting predator, you told everyone I confessed my love for you and then I got cold feet. Text message after text message and DM after DM, I was being harassed by those girls you led on for so long, and I can’t tell you how many times I freaked out and got tested for STDs because of you. But you think it was consensual? You think it was okay? Did you never wonder why I left you without saying a word and moved out of the state?!” You were screaming by the time you stopped speaking, shaking and nauseous as your former best friend turned assailant stood before you with little to no remorse. 

“You’re saying I raped you?” he asked, brow arched with a hollow laugh. “You were begging me.” 

“Begging you to stop,” you interjected with a hiss. 

“And then you ran off to New York to become a whore.” 

“Fuck you!” you bellowed, launching yourself forward to strike Connor in the face repeatedly. It didn’t take him long to shove you backwards and onto the cold cement you’d been standing on only moments before. 

You landed with a thud and watched at Connor turned to walk away - but before he knew what happened, Sonny had connected his fist with Connor’s jaw in a manner that left your former best friend lying on the cement near you. 

Quickly, Sonny pulled you to your feet and brushed you off, making sure that you were okay. 

“I’m fine,” you lied, looking down at Connor who’s lip was bleeding as he tried to sit up defiantly. 

“Hey, I wouldn’t be getting up if I were you,” Sonny snapped, looking sternly at the man who was sitting on the ground. “Mass has a fifteen year statute of limitations. I’d do whatever I could not to make it worse right now.” 

“Who the fuck are you?” he demanded, glaring up at Sonny. 

“Dominick Carisi Jr, Manhattan ADA,” he replied with a roll of his eyes. Sonny pulled you closer and kept a protective hold on you. “And this is my wife, but I think you’ve met.” 

“Fuck,” Connor grumbled under his breath and let his shoulders slump in defeat. “Well go ahead, what are you gonna do? Arrest me?” 

“I’m not a Detective anymore, but I’m sure I can make some calls.” Sonny turned to you and cupped your face in his hand. “Lets get you inside, alright? I need to make some calls and the family is about to leave for the graveside. We just have to get through a few more hours and we’re free, babe, alright?” 

You nodded slowly and glanced at Connor on the ground. If you went back inside, he could leave and never be heard from again. That’s how you had wanted to live your life. But, now Sonny knew what had happened, and Sonny wasn’t going to let it rest until he was brought to justice. Torn between fear and comfort, you tucked your clutch under your arm and dashed back towards the funeral home, slipping back inside to join the family. Sonny had his hands full, but you knew that was his true calling. 

The ride back to New York was quiet. Eerily quiet. Sonny had worked with victims for years and had a particular knack when it came to helping people in times of sorrow and trouble. You wondered, though, if it was different because you were his wife. Maybe it was different because you’d buried your father and experienced an outcry in the same day. Still, there was very little you had to say and feigned sleeping for the first hour of the trip just to give yourself a break. 

“Hey doll...” Sonny whispered, placing his hand on your knee tenderly. “I’m gonna stop to fill up the car. Do you want anything?” 

You shrugged with as much sleepiness as you could fake and shuffled in your seat so that you could sit up. “I’m alright. We’ll be home in a few hours.” 

“I’m taking some time off of work,” he added casually before he got out of the car and locked you in. 

A few minutes later he returned and filled the car up with fuel, then rejoined you inside and started the engine. 

“I got you a water,” he said, handing you a bag that also contained a variety of snacks. “And stuff.” 

A whisper of a laugh left your lips and you sighed. “Are things ok?” 

“What things?” he inquired. 

“Us.” 

“Why wouldn’t they be, Y/N?” he asked, merging back onto the highway and accelerating. 

“I never wanted you to know.” You twisted your wedding ring around your finger absently and fought back the urge to cry, despite how painful it was for you. 

He nodded absently and stayed silent for a long moment, glancing in his mirrors as he tried to find the right words to say. 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered and averted your gaze out of your passenger window. 

“Please don’t say you’re sorry. Please don’t think that this changes anything between us. If you feel like you’re damaged goods or you’re broken, you’re not. And I love you, no matter what. I don’t love you any less knowing the troubles you endured and kept to yourself. In fact I love you more because you’re so strong. You turned your pain into prosperity. You let yourself be loved, and you let yourself love, too. That’s something that I think is really hard for anyone who’s been through something like you’ve been through. I’m sorry that he exists and that he did such a criminal thing to you, but I promise you I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure he rots for it. But, Y/N, I swear on everything, I’ll never stop loving you and I’ll never look at you different, and I’ll never be mad at you because you chose to keep something so private and difficult to yourself.” He glanced over at you and frowned when he saw your eyes welling with tears and spilling over. 

“I don’t deserve you,” you choked out through sobs, covering your mouth and finally allowing yourself to cry without barriers. 

Sonny signaled and pulled off onto the emergency shoulder of the highway, putting the hazards on and placing the car in park. He unbuckled his seat belt and practically climbed over the center console to envelope you into his arms, protective and loving as he had been from day one. “You do, and I deserve you. Remember what you said? We’re meant to be together.” 

“Please don’t ever leave me,” you whined, pulling at his shirt to bring yourself closer. “Please.” What he heard, and what you didn’t say were the same - please don’t see me any differently, please don’t make me find your love again, please keep me. 

“I wouldn’t have anyone but you by my side,” he promised and kissed your forehead softly. “We’ve only got a little while left and then we’re home, alright? Let’s order takeout and eat on the balcony, okay? I promise you I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Okay,” you said with a sniffling nod. “Let’s go. I can’t wait to get back to normalcy with you.” 

The sound of the shower starting drew you from your slumber and dropped you back into the bitter reality of what was happening. For a moment you were disoriented - had it really happened that way? But within a few moments, you’d rolled over and checked your phone to see the myriad of missed calls and text messages with condolences and prayer promises. 

Sonny poked his head out of the bathroom and offered you a half smile. “Good morning, beautiful. Come join me?” 

You nodded meekly and padded over to him, embracing his half clothed form. Pressing your face against his bare chest, you sighed heavily and squeezed him close to you. “We have a lot to get done today. Aunt Judy doesn’t want us wasting any time.” 

He kissed the top of your head and pulled you into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. “Let’s take it one step at a time.” 

The halls of Mass Gen were quiet, surprisingly, for such a depressing ward. Your father’s room was midway down the hall, and the door was wide open as you approached. Your eyes fell upon your father as you saw his fragile existence, barely holding on to what was left of his life. 

“Oh Dad,” you said with a shaky sigh, closing the gap between you and placing your hand on his. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you were sick.” 

“He didn’t, either,” your brother promised you, hovering in the doorway. 

Sonny stood a few feet away from you, hands in his pockets awkwardly. Surely he was out of place. He dealt with murder and assault all the time, but seeing his father in law on his death bed was a new type of trauma for the seasoned detective turned lawyer. 

“What’s happened to him?” you asked, barely looking up as a nurse entered the room and checked vitals, jotting notes on the tablet that was your father’s chart. 

She sighed. “Your father’s been diagnosed with stage 4 terminal cancer.” 

“What kind?” you inquired, brushing your finger over the back of your father’s hand.

“Lung,” she explained, gesturing to the oxygen that your father was currently depending on to survive. “He came in yesterday complaining about breathing concerns and once the doctor took a closer look, we could only confirm the worst. I’m so sorry for your trouble.” The nurse nodded with a frown and left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts at your father’s bedside. 

“I wish I would have known, I could have moved back here and taken care of you, Dad. I would have done anything. Maybe there’s still a chance, though? They’re not always right, and you’re a fighter. Maybe it’s just a misdiagnosis?” you wondered aloud, tears welling in your eyes. 

As you dabbed at your eyes with the back of your hand, you felt the air in the room change. Suddenly, there was noise that filled the room, rushing of nurses and doctors screaming for you and your family to leave the room, physically pushing you out of the way. You collided with your brother and tumbled out of the way, finding yourself in the hall with Sonny finally emerging from the room. 

Several long minutes passed as you heard the calls for “clear” and “more oxygen” from the hallway. You slumped down against the wall and sat on the floor, pulling your knees close to your chest, trying to disappear from the hospital and back to a place that wasn’t full of misery. 

“Y/N,” you heard Sonny saying, realizing the silence was back and the overbearing noise of resuscitation was gone. 

You shook your head and pushed yourself up to your feet, refusing to hear whatever awful news that Sonny was about to give you. Your brother reached out to grab your arm but you shrugged him away, marching straight into your father’s hospital room. 

It was too late. 

“I know that we have a lot to do today, but I want to make sure that you eat. Your brother was telling me about a place a few blocks down that opened up recently. Let’s go there, then we can meet up with everyone else,” Sonny was saying, washing his hair with his head tipped back and his eyes closed. 

“That’s a good idea.” You washed off the remainder of the soap on your body and then kissed his jaw. “You’re the best thing in the world to ever happen to me.” 

“Mutual,” he said with a small shrug, stepping back as you pulled the curtain to get out of the shower. 

Over a breakfast of blueberry pancakes and coffee, you mapped the day out with Sonny. After breakfast, you’d head back to your father’s home, where everyone would be waiting. His last wishes were to be buried at his family plot, with a simple service that highlighted his life’s accomplishments and how proud he was of his children and grandchildren. After coordinating and contacting the funeral home, you’d have to order flowers, plan the meal situation for the service, and make sure that you met with your father’s lawyer to confirm any final details regarding his burial. 

It was a lot, you had to admit, but knowing that Sonny was there made things seem so much more simple. 

As you sat at a window table with your husband, you couldn’t help but thank God that you’d been given the best gift in the world. In between bites he caught you staring and reached out to grasp your hand in his. “It’s gonna be alright. I’m here. We’re gonna get through this together.” 

When you walked back into your father’s house, you were immediately greeted by two rambunctious and excited little boys - your nephews. They embraced you and spoke over one another trying to get the most of your attention as possible, that is until they saw Sonny. They ran to him and jumped into his arms, hugging him and starting the process all over. Your sister in law came around the corner and folded her arms, crossly observing her children’s behavior. 

“Let them be happy. Someone needs to be,” you said, lips pulling into a frown. 

“Well, they’re my kids, so I think I get the final say in how they’re raised,” she retorted and yelled at her children to get down and go back to the living room. “They need to learn their place. They’ve been getting on my nerves all day and there isn’t a single thing for them to do in this house.” 

“Yeah. Kinda like my Dad didn’t have any young children living here, so he decorated how he saw fit.” You shrugged and brushed past her, heading into the living room where the rest of your family was stationed. 

“Sonny and I will handle food and flowers,” you announced and stood in the doorway to the living room. Sonny came to stand beside you and smiled at your family, the family that he’d only met once at the wedding. “I really appreciate you all coming together for this. Aunt Judy, I know that due to your health concerns you’d like this as orderly and speedy as possible. I respect that. So I’d like to finalize plans today. Dad will be prepared for burial by tomorrow, so I’d like to make sure that we respect each other’s time and do this together, efficiently.” 

“We’ll get with the funeral home,” your brother offered, glancing at his wife who merely shrugged. “Dad already had everything paid for and picked out, so we just need to confirm that they’ll be able to accommodate us.” 

“Great. You guys are more than welcome to stay here and visit with one another. We’re going to go ahead and get started on everything.” You felt Sonny place his hand on the small of your back and guide you closer to him, where you naturally fit under his shoulder. 

“Thank you guys for being here. I know it means a lot to Y/N and myself. I left my cell number on the fridge if you guys need anything while we’re out,” he concluded, and gently but confidently guided you from the living room and back towards the entrance to the house. 

“Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked, cupping your chin in his hand to bring your gaze back to his eyes. 

You nodded and met his eyes. “I’ve gotta get it done.” 

He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours for a long moment. “At anytime you need a break, you tell me. You don’t have to do it all.” 

“I know, thank you. Let’s get as much done as possible. I love my Dad but I’m tired of being in Boston already,” you complained and pulled away from him to leave the house. 

Flowers ordered. Check. Food to feed up to 50 people. Check. Meeting with your father’s lawyer to ensure that his final wishes were being met. Check. 

The only thing left was to get with your brother to see if he had secured a time for the services. 

On the drive back from the North Shore, you stared out the window and fought the urge to break down. Why was there never enough time to grieve? Why was it so sudden? Could you really ever honestly be prepared, even if you knew someone was going to die at a certain time? What would happen when Sonny died? What if you died first, would Sonny be okay? You wanted Sonny to die first so that he wouldn’t have to go through the suffering of losing you and living alone. Try as you might, you found yourself sniffling on the ride back home. 

“Where’d your mind take you?” Sonny asked as he turned onto the street lined with brownstones that your father had called home for so many years. 

“I don’t you to die, but I’d rather you go first so that you don’t have to live without me,” you explained and wiped the tears from your face. 

“If you go first, I’ll never get remarried,” he promised, parking the car and killing the engine. “Come inside with me. I’ll make you some tea, and we can watch Tom and Jerry. Your brother told me that you and your Dad watched it a lot together when you were little. Let’s relive some good memories, huh?” 

“Dad also used to make me grilled cheese sandwiches....” you trailed off and looked at him with a mischievous smile. 

“I know it’s been a really long time since you’ve been back home. It isn’t gonna be easy, y’know? But I’m gonna be there with you and I’m gonna make sure that you have all the support you could possibly need.” The warmth of Sonny’s voice was just as soothing as the touch of his hands against your face. How did you find such a gem? He was the rock you needed for stability and the softness you craved when things were just too tough. Right now, things were incredibly tough. 

Less than 48 hours ago, your phone rang and shattered your perfect existence. 

“Y/N, it’s me...” There was a long pause as you waited for your brother to say something. He sighed heavily and you could hear him scratching at his beard absently, trying to find the words. “Listen. You have to come home. Something’s wrong with Dad. He... h-he’s in the hospital and it’s not good. The doctor said he may have a week left at most. He’s been sick for a long time but he just never knew, I guess. I don’t know. Can you come home?” 

You blinked back heavy tears and whimpered out a soft “yes” to your brother. Though a million questions flooded your mind, you knew it wasn’t the right time to ask. Instead, you murmured an “I love you” to him and ended the call. 

Sonny shouldered the bag you were sharing for your trip and headed downstairs to load the car. You watched him leave and then sank down onto the bed with a great sigh. Things were so perfect two days ago. Why did things have to be suddenly so awful? Everything was going well. Recently you’d celebrated two years of marriage with Sonny, you’d closed on a house and found yourself living your ultimate New York dream, Sonny had been promoted, you had landed a book deal, and everything seemed like it was sincerely going well. That’s what you got for basking in your glory for more than 30 seconds. 

And why was that, anyway? When you’d met Sonny he was finishing up law school and working with the Manhattan Special Victims Unit. You’d been struggling to find your break through book and then it hit you, the night that you’d met Sonny. Sure, people love to hear about the good things - but oh, how much more they loved a tragedy. You had to laugh. You didn’t love the tragedy you were facing at the moment, but damn it would probably make a good book one day. Even still, in spite of what was happening, Sonny was at your side at all times. He supported you and encouraged you, and you did the same for him. It was the most healthy relationship you’d ever been in - and honestly, that you’d ever heard of, either. You knew some of his coworkers had struggled with relationships that didn’t end in bitterness or tears, and you had seen it first hand with your parents and your friends, too. It felt like things were too good to be true and that was why you were being punished with this sudden weight on your chest. 

Still, you had no way to wrap your head around what was happening. You needed answers. More importantly, you needed to leave. 

“You ready?” he asked, re-emerging in the doorway what seemed like 30 seconds later. You looked at your phone and nodded, realizing that it was nearly 10AM and the drive back home was going to be three and a half hours at least, depending on traffic. 

“I’m ready.” You pushed yourself up and grabbed your purse, before following your husband down to the garage. There was no use in waiting. 

By the time you’d gotten into Connecticut and had been fully aquainted with the construction on the road, Sonny reached over and placed his hand reassuringly on your knee. While verbally he said nothing, his simple action spoke volumes and left your throat aching from holding back tears. 

“I love you,” he said gently, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. 

“I love you, too,” you whispered in response and placed your hand on his. “Thank you for being here with me.” 

“Doll, it’s my responsibility to take care of you. It’s my privilege to take this trip with you and support you through this. We’ll stay as long as we need to stay, and I’m here to help you in any way possible.” 

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as your husband spoke. “God knew what he was doing when he had our paths cross, didn’t he?” 

“I couldn’t agree more.” He squeezed your knee and smiled. 

Boston finally appeared in your view some time later. It was just as beautiful as you remembered, though you’d moved nearly 5 years ago to be closer to the small publisher you’d met online. You never imagined that once you left your home in Back Bay that you’d publish a book, meet the man of your dreams, get married, and live the life you’d only dreamed about. And yet, for some reason, being back in Boston made you feel somewhat sick to your stomach. After all, Boston would always be the city that crushed your soul and made you run away. But, there was no time for that thought process - you had to focus on your Dad now. 

The brownstone that your parents lived in, before your mother and father divorced, looked the exact same as it had when you’d left. The steps were still decorated with vibrant flowers and plants, and the front windows were still held wide open so that passersby could see the outline of the piano you’d played as a child on one side, and the bookshelves that held all of the stories you’d loved to hear your dad read when you were a child. 

“Wow. I forgot the lap of luxury I married into,” Sonny said with a small laugh. 

You rolled your eyes and got out of the car, bounding up the steps. You were greeted by the door flying open and your brother’s form waiting to greet you. 

“Welcome home,” he said, embracing you and squeezing you with a hug. It had been over two years since you’d seen him, but it felt like no time had passed when you saw him again. Thick as thieves growing up, you’d remained closed despite your move and talked quite often via FaceTime. 

“It’s good to be back. Can we unload the car and then go see Dad?” you asked, looking back over your shoulder at Sonny. He and your brother got along exceptionally well, despite very different personalities and interests. 

As Sonny came up the steps, your brother grabbed a bag from him and grasped his hand, pulling him in for a clap on the back. “Good to see you man. Sorry for the circumstances,” Sonny said, pulling away from his brother in law. 

“Still happy to have you here. You guys can take Y/N’s old room. Dad turned it into a guest bedroom about two minutes after she moved out,” he said with a nostalgic laugh. Your brother glanced at you with what looked like a hint of admiration and maybe even sadness. Being his little sister was one of your favorite titles in life, but you knew how protective he was over you and how he hated seeing you in New York. Everytime the topic of your move came up, he always looked a little misty eyed. 

“Come, let’s get this settled. I want to see Dad,” you said with a gentle push of urgency. “I know he wants to see us, too.” 

How long had you been talking to Sonny? It seemed like ages but in reality it was only a few weeks, and though you felt such a connection you found yourself feeling a little off put by how little you knew about the man. All you had surmised was that he was a lawyer, he was intelligent, he had a big family and he was Catholic. Sure, that was enough for some people to elope with, but you felt like you needed more. He felt like he was too good to be true. 

When he invited you out to celebrate a friend’s birthday, you had to accept. It was your chance to learn more about your new friend - and while you were borderline miserable with just being friends, you knew it was for the best. It hadn’t been very long since you’d finally let go of your ex-husband. 

The evening rolled around finally and you found yourself gazing into the mirror, picking at your perceived imperfections. Patchy, dry skin, chapped lips from not having the time to stay hydrated during the last few insane days at work, your hair looked like it needed a gloss treatment and most of all, you looked like you were nervous. 

Well, good, because you were. Incredibly nervous. 

Sonny picked you up from your apartment around 7 and greeted you with a kiss to the forehead. 

“You look amazing,” he complimented, eyes wandering from the top of your frame to the bottom, then back up again to settle on your face. “Gorgeous.” 

An involuntary and embarrassing blush crept onto your cheeks and you stammered out your appreciations. “We should get going, yeah?” 

The twenty minute ride to the restaurant was quiet but not uncomfortable. You’d grown to appreciate the fact that you didn’t always need to have something to say with Sonny. It was the kind of thing you’d only fantasized about in the past. With Luca, you were constantly concerned he was going to find you boring and you tried your damnedest to keep him tricked into the idea that you were fascinating and absolutely his type. Looking back, you cringed at the amount of wasted time. 

“Here we are,” Sonny nearly whispered, parallel parking a block down from the bar. He placed his hand tenderly on your knee after he shifted into park and looked at you with sincere concern. 

“What?” you asked as you met his gaze. 

“You look terrified,” he said and bit back a laugh. 

You shrugged, but didn’t disagree. “Usually when I meet new people I’m wearing a surgical mask and their mouths are usually wide open with limited communication skills. I guess I don’t get out a lot,” you admitted with a chortle. 

“Everyone’s going to love you, Y/N. Who wouldn’t?” His rhetoric was followed by his exit from his car so that he could open your car door and help you out onto the sidewalk. “C’mon, I want to show you off.” 

Several of Sonny’s friends were already seated at the table, though as you approached you realized that the reserved area was more a free for all, and people were roaming about the secluded room with drinks in their hand, socializing. 

“Amanda, this is my friend Y/N. Y/N, this is Amanda. We used to work together. We still do, just in a different capacity,” he explained as you shook Amanda’s hand and smiled at her. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. Sonny’s had a lot of really nice things to say about you, so I’m hopin’ they’re all true,” Amanda said with a short but kind laugh and released your hand. 

“Oh god, I hope he hasn’t been lying then,” you replied and laughed, shaking your head at Sonny. 

Amanda and Sonny chatted for a few moments and you wandered away, over to the table that had pre-poured glasses of champagne and trays of delicate treats that you couldn’t quite name. 

You had to admit that it was nice to see Sonny in his element, talking to his friends and coworkers, laughing and showing how natural it was for him to communicate with people. For a while you had felt like maybe you had a strong connection with him, but now you were realizing that he was honestly just a nice guy. It stung for only a moment, giving you time to realize that this wasn’t about you - it was about Sonny, and you were here with him because he asked you, because he wanted your company. 

Relief washed over you as the champagne coated your throat and left you feeling warm. 

Time passed on and you were introduced to several other people that were there to celebrate the birthday of their shared friend. You met a few lawyers, a few detectives, police officers from Staten Island, and a few people from the gym that Sonny frequented. It was a nice mixture of people and you were happy to see how well everyone was getting along. 

At nearly 9PM, the doors to the party room swung open and a gorgeous redhead strolled in on the arm of a man who looked like he probably visited the gym more than anyone should. By then, you were feeling a little fuzzy and had found yourself much more sociable thanks to your three glasses of champagne. Even your abundance of alcohol couldn’t trick you - you had to take a second look at the couple that just walked in. 

“Adrienne! Luca! You finally made it! Happy Birthday, Adri!” The chorus of celebratory comments filled the room and confirmed your nightmare. Your ex-husband was the date of the birthday girl, the woman that Sonny worked with several times on different cases. Of course, it all made sense. God was playing a dirty trick on you and you couldn’t think of an excuse quick enough to get away. 

“Y/N!” Sonny called out and grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the redheaded bombshell and her obnoxious date. “I want you to meet my friend Adrienne, she’s based out of Brooklyn but she’s one of the best paralegals I’ve ever met.” 

Adrienne extended her hand and you took it, shaking it firmly. “So nice to meet you, Adrienne. I’m Y/N. Happy Birthday!” 

She smiled and pulled you into a hug. “Thanks! I’m so glad to meet you!” 

From your embrace, you felt eyes staring into your soul. Luca was fixated on you. 

“Luca, man, so glad you could be here tonight!” Sonny said and half embraced Luca in a manner that was befitting of two men who seemed to be a lot closer than you could have ever imagined. 

“Thanks so much for helping me get this shit set up, Sonny. And hey I know it’s been a while but I wanted to say thanks again for getting that Yankees stuff for me and leaving it at the gym. I appreciate you. I can cash app you if you want?” he asked, holding up his phone and giving it a small shake. 

You couldn’t believe what was happening. 

Someone was playing a trick on you, but you weren’t quite sure who it was. Fate? Luca? God? Karma? 

All you knew was at that moment, you felt like you were going to burst into pieces of divorcee shrapnel and slice through your ex-husband if you didn’t make an escape. 

“Luca, I want you to meet my friend Y/N,” Sonny said and turned on his heel, pulling you protectively to his side with a squeeze. 

Luca’s eyes widened and he smiled, grabbing your hand and pulling you against him to embrace you. “Any friend of Sonny’s is a friend of mine, Y/N. So nice to meet you,” he said with such a thick faux friendliness that you wanted to scream and hurdle him out of a window. 

You felt the urge to vomit come and go, and pushed yourself away from him with a stumble. “I’m so sorry, I’m not feeling very well. Nice to meet you. Excuse me, please.” 

Your eyes roamed the room and you settled on the exit that lead to the back of the restaurant before dashing away. Blinded by your own tears, you tore through every door until you found yourself standing in the back alley of the restaurant as the door shut and locked with a loud click behind you. Great you thought to yourself. You shivered and berated yourself for not wearing something with more coverage as you pawed at the skirt on your dress to pull it down lower. It didn’t matter, you told yourself. It didn’t matter at all. It was far better to have to take the long way through the alley to get home than to go back inside and deal with the monstrosity that was waiting for you. 

“I’m sorry.” 

It was a simple text, but it carried more weight than you expected. You never responded to him, and he didn’t respond to you. But, this one time, you were surprised to see a response from Luca. 

Three dots popped up several times before dead air, and you tossed your phone onto your bed with a loud sigh. Why had you bothered texting him? You were officially divorced. He was dating someone new, according to the Facebook profile you tried so hard not to look at periodically, and seemed to be just fine. So, what was your problem? 

You picked your phone back up and looked at the message you’d sent just moments before his reply. 

“I found this in my closet. I can’t say I’m surprised. Tell her if she wants it back she can have it. I know they’re not cheap. I’ll mail it to your work.” 

And he replied with “I’m sorry.” 

Did he mean it? 

You sighed and flopped backwards onto your bed, squeezing your eyes shut to fight back the tears. 

Maybe you weren’t as “over it” as you kept telling yourself. 

Over the next few weeks you found yourself talking to Sonny on a very consistent basis. It was usually after 6PM, but that didn’t concern you because your own schedule didn’t permit much chat throughout the day either. You still weren’t sure about the ins and outs of Sonny, but you knew that he was previous a cop and that he had a degree in law, so you presumed he was a lawyer. He was smart, he was funny, he was incredibly attractive, and he seemed to have somewhat dark sense of humor. You were hooked, though you wouldn’t admit it. 

By 6:30PM on most nights, you were just getting home and peeling yourself out of your scrubs. Every day you embarked on a new adventure at work - and though most of the time it was just a simple filling or a crown, you enjoyed the people you met and helped. Still, in spite of your love for your profession, you still looked forward to going home and changing into your lounge clothes for the evening. 

And lately? Maybe you were looking forward to seeing Sonny’s name show up on your phone screen, too. 

As if he were following a schedule, you sat down with a glass of red wine and curled up on the couch just in time to get a text from your new friend. 

Sonny: Anything fun going on tonight? 

You snapped a quick picture of your wine glass, held up in front of the TV. 

Sonny: Pretty good plans. 

Y/N: What about you? Anything good? 

Sonny: Just got home and settled myself. Not sure what to do for dinner. 

Y/N: Get something delivered. You’re a busy man. Let someone else do the work for you for once. :) 

Sonny: You’re a busy woman yourself. What’s your favorite kind of food?

Y/N: Sushi. Any and all sushi. You?

Sonny: I like sushi. Can I buy you dinner? 

Y/N: :( I’m in my pajamas. 

Sonny: I’ll bring it to you? No pressure. No obligation. Just sushi. 

Y/N: ......okay. Apartment 919. 

Sonny: See you in an hour. :) 

By the time Sonny arrived, you had tidied up your apartment and lit a few candles, as well as turned the TV off and hooked up one of the speakers to your phone for a casual playlist. You were pre-embarrassed for yourself already, wondering if you were doing too much or if he would find it charming. 

Knocking from your apartment door drew you back to your surroundings. 

“Hey,” you breathed as you opened the door. 

He smiled and held up a bag of take out. “Hey yourself.” 

You ushered him in and closed the door behind him, taking a moment to observe the fact that he was wearing a tailored suit and looked amazing. Suddenly you felt that your hoodie and pajama pants weren’t appropriate. 

“Thanks, by the way. This is really nice of you, Sonny.” 

As he opened the bag and began emptying out the contents, you moved your laundry basket out of the way and onto the couch, clearing up the bar area. 

“You’re welcome. You’re good company. I like spending time with you,” he replied with a smile. 

“Red or white?” you asked, holding up a wine glass. Although you were smiling on the outside, you wanted to curl up in a ball and die at that very moment. He was perfect. 

But, wait no, you had to stop yourself. You thought the same thing about your previous relationship. Was he really so great? What if he had deep dark secrets, too? 

The glasses were poured and you found yourself truly enjoying the company that you had in your apartment. It had been so long since you’d felt comfortable, felt like you could trust someone, and then you realized maybe it wasn’t Sonny and it was really the wine. You realized it was the wine when you stood up to take the plates to the sink and felt warm and dizzy. 

“Sonny, I’m sorry, I think I’m kind of drunk,” you admitted with a laugh. You rubbed your eyes sleepily and leaned back against the counter, steadying yourself for a moment while you regained your balance. 

He stood up slowly and swayed purposefully from side to side, testing his own bearings before he let out a soft chuckle. “Three glasses’ll do that for you,” he said gently and held his hand out to you. “Come on, let’s get you to the couch. I’ll leave you be so you can get some sleep. It’s Friday though, so maybe you can sleep in tomorrow?” 

You took his hand and nodded. “Thank God. I’m tired and it’s been a long week anyway.” 

You’d never been that close to him before and found yourself studying the natural highlights of his hair and the intensity of the blue in his eyes. He was gorgeous. 

“Here you go,” he murmured and draped a blanket over your legs. 

“I really like you,” you muttered and stifled a yawn, smoothing the blanket out across your legs. 

“You what?” 

You opened your mouth for a second and then sighed. “Thanks so much for dinner. You’re great, and I’m thankful to have you as a friend.” 

He seemed to frown for a moment - barely giving you enough time to register that he seemed disappointed with your response. Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and stood back up. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, alright?” 

“Wait,” you groaned and grabbed his hand, preventing him from walking away. “Wait, please.” 

“Yeah?” he asked with an arched brow. 

You let go of Sonny’s hand and shook your head. “Let me know when you get home, please.” 

Sonny called later that afternoon and offered to meet you at a bar close to your apartment. The bar scene wasn’t really your idea of a good time, which meant it was perfect. You wouldn’t be tempted to spend extra time there and you wouldn’t run into anyone you knew - hopefully - thanks to how infrequently you left your apartment outside of work. 

He was already present when you arrived ten minutes early. 

“Thanks for meeting me,” he said as he stood up and pulled a chair out for you at the small table. 

“I appreciate you being so accommodating,” you replied and took a seat. It suddenly occurred to you that it was odd to be sitting with him. There were no drinks on the table and you didn’t know the guy. 

After he took his seat across from you, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small box. He slid it over to you and then sat back, occupying himself with the drink menu on the table. 

You scowled the moment you opened the box and examined the bracelet. It was heavily decorated with charms of dolphins and palm trees; beachy indeed. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, taking note of your displeased expression. 

You merely shook your head and put it back in its box before dropping it into your purse with little care. “It’s not mine.” 

“Well it’s not mine?” 

“No. I know. It belongs to someone that I knew was an asshole before I ever met her.” 

He frowned, seemingly sympathetic. “Explain?” 

“You know that meme with the man and woman walking, and he’s looking back at a woman who’s walking by? You, versus the girl he told you not to worry about?” You rolled your eyes and picked the box out of your purse again. “The girl I wasn’t supposed to worry about wore this bracelet every single day, and yet somehow despite the fact that it wasn’t something I was supposed to worry about, it ended up in my garment bag. It’s a little suspicious.” 

Sonny sighed and nodded his head. “A little, yeah. I could agree with that. Maybe you’re better off now? Your new boyfriend’s gotta be a stand up guy.” 

You snorted, shaking your head. “No new boyfriend. No new husband, either. You’re the last nice guy in New York and you just bought my ex-husband’s old jerseys so, that takes you out of the question.” 

Before you realized what you had said, you realized that his cheeks had been overtaken by a furious blush. What you didn’t know was that yours had, too. 

In order to regain your focus, you stared down at the box and then snapped your eyes back to him. “Was it in this box?” 

“No. I didn’t want it to get messed up so I put it into a box.” 

“Well you can take the box back. Your girl might not appreciate you taking her stuff and giving it to strangers.” You opened the box and dropped the bracelet unceremoniously into your bag again, then handed the jewelry transporter back to him. 

“She won’t mind.” 

Internally, you screamed and fought the urge to roll your eyes. “Either way.” 

“Really, she won’t mind because she doesn’t exist.” 

Despite the back pedaling, you felt annoyed and stood up from the table. “I should get going. I have to be up early tomorrow for work.” 

“Did you drive?” he asked, standing up as well. He gathered his belongings and pushed his chair in. 

“No, I only live a few blocks away. I walked.” 

“Let me walk you back?” he offered, a hopeful expression on his face. 

You wrinkled your nose slightly. “I can see it now. Brooklyn woman found in alley behind bar. Sources say she met a mysterious man in a bar and no one saw her again.” 

You expected a laugh, but to your dismay he narrowed his eyes at you in what you thought was frustration. “That’s the exact reason you shouldn’t walk home alone at night, Y/N.” 

Putting your hands up in defense, you exhaled slowly and shook your head. “Okay, I’m sorry. I know, you used to be a cop. But what if you’re not a cop anymore, and now you’re a serial killer? Ted Bundy was attractive, too, you know,” you muttered, kicking yourself for the comparison and compliment. 

The breakup had taken place almost a year before. The separation period followed, and then finally the long awaited divorce. None of it was ideal, but it was better than being trapped in a loveless marriage, and at least it was no-fault, so it was a pretty seamless process. The marriage itself lasted 4 years, and you’d been with your ex-husband for two years prior to that, so seeing 6 years wash down the drain with a slam of a gavel wasn’t picturesque. It just... was. 

Your now ex-husband, Luca, was a trained competitive boxer. His physique was something to admire, but the more he trained, the less compassionate he became. Everything was fine until the night he put his fist through the wall next to your head when you’d asked him about a coworker who’s number kept showing up on the phone bill. Apparently, he was sick of the questions and wanted to take a more direct approach. At that point, you made the intelligent and conscious decision to pack your bags while he was gone and make yourself disappear. 

Finally, you were free. You could be your own person again. You could date. You could sleep until 4PM on your day off if you wanted to, and most of all you didn’t have to worry about anyone’s temper anymore. 

You’d set up your meeting with Sonny to be at 9:00AM the next day, which was convenient because you didn’t frequent church on Sundays and your schedule was open. Your mother was persistent that if you’d just find time for Jesus you’d see that you weren’t alone after all. She meant well and to some people she was a saint, but lately you were beginning to feel like maybe she was more like The Nun than anything. 

With a garment bag draped over the back of a park bench, you sat and bounced your foot idly waiting for your meeting to commence. Coffee warmed your hands and occupied your mind with each small sip, careful not to burn your tongue. 

“Hey, are you Y/N? 

You brought your attention back to the present and nodded. “You must be Sonny.” 

“Nice to meet you, and thanks again for letting me check out the merch before I commit to buying,” he said, keeping a respectful distance between your seated figure and his standing one. 

A brief smile flashed across your face before you stood and picked up the bag. “No problem. Take a look. I trust you not to run off with them.” 

“No problem. I used to be a cop. I know that kind of shit isn’t really the experience you want when you’re trying to make some extra cash,” he replied nonchalantly. Extending his reach, he grabbed the bag from you carefully and unzipped it, taking a peek inside. 

“I guess they’re authentic,” you offered after a moment. “I mean I know they’re real but they’re like.. supposed to be MLB legit.” 

He nodded in agreement. “Yeah, they look like they’re the real deal. This works out really well. Buddy of mine was looking for some to replace some that he lost, and this is gonna be such a great surprise for him.” 

“That’s awesome. I’m pretty sure somewhere I have some signed cards. I could let you know if you’re interested?” 

“That’d be great. I appreciate it.” He reached into his pocket and handed you a carefully folded stack of bills, which you happily accepted. 

You pocketed the money and then nodded at the garment bag. “Hang on to it. If you’re ever out this way again, let me know and I’ll get it back from you. I usually use it to keep my one good dress safe, but it’s kind of retired now.” 

“Give me a call if you’ve got anything else you want to get rid of. Thanks, again. I appreciate it. Have a good day.” 

“You too.” 

On your way home you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about how attractive your new Yankee’s buyer was, and how you were thankful that he wasn’t some creep that tried to rob you or talk you down on the pricing. Of course you knew that selling things online was always a risk, but it seemed like this one had finally paid off.. Didn’t hurt that he used to be a cop, either, you thought to yourself. Maybe there really were some good people left - although, if you asked your Mom, she’d definitely say it had something to do with the church. 

You wrinkled your nose and locked the door behind you as you entered your apartment again. As you crossed the living room towards the couch, you inadvertently looked at the hall closet that held all of the memories from your marriage. 

“Not today,” you said aloud and collapsed onto the couch. Today was for resting, not for dredging up old memories and making yourself want to day drink before noon. No. Today was going to be different. At least, until your phone rang and it was Sonny. 

“Hello?” you answered, feigning ignorance as if you hadn’t saved his name in your phone already. It felt desperate for a moment - were you that lonely? 

“Hey, Y/N. This is Sonny. We just met up and I bought those jerseys?” 

“Mhmm. Is everything okay?” 

“Well yeah but, I just took a closer look and you left something in the bag that I didn’t intend to buy.” 

“I’m so sorry. What did I leave behind?” you asked, furrowing your brow as you ran through a list of things you could have potentially given a perfect stranger. 

“In the bottom of the bag there was a bracelet. One of those charm-y ones with all the different trinkets.” 

“Are you sure?” You’d never owned one of the styles in question. In fact, you rarely wore jewelry because you always had to take it off before seeing a patient anyway. 

“I’ll send you a picture.” 

A moment later your phone chirped and you opened the message from Sonny. It was in fact a charm bracelet, but it was not yours. It was, however, one that you’d complimented your ex-husband’s coworker for wearing one time. You remembered it vividly because it was a testament to her love for the beach. Only, you had no idea how you’d ended up with it in your home, more specifically in something that he’d left behind when you separated. 

“Ah.. well. I guess that’s mine.” Your heart was in the pit of your stomach as you realized that your concerns had been completely valid, despite how long ago it was. 

“I’m already back home but if you want, I can meet you a little later? I’ve got a family obligation this afternoon.” 

“Sure. Yeah. Just give me a call when you’re free and I’ll grab it from you. Thanks, by the way, for being so honest. That’s really nice of you.” 

You could nearly hear his smile through the phone. “Sometimes I think I’m the last decent guy in New York.” 

A bubble of laughter filled the air of your apartment and you shook your head. “And you’re humble. Talk to you later. Bye.” 

The vibration of your phone on the nightstand brought you back from your slumber. On the screen was simply one missed call from an unknown number. A few seconds later, you received a notification that the caller had left you a voice message.

Dragging your finger across the screen, you unlocked it and tapped on the notification.

“Uh.. hey man. This is Sonny. I saw your ad on Craigslist, that you’re looking to sell some authentic Yankees stuff and I wanted to know more about it. Give me a call back at this number. Thanks.”

You wrinkled your nose in disgust. “Man,” you murmured and rolled your eyes. Way to assume you were a male just because of sports memoribilia.

After a few seconds of chewing this “Sonny” out in your head, you called him back. Time to surprise that bum for assuming in the first place.

“Hi. Is this Sonny?”

“Yeah. Who’s this?”

You rolled your eyes. “You just called about the Yanks stuff.”

“Oh yeah, sorry.”

“Mhmm. Anyway do you want me to send you some pictures of the jerseys or..?”

You could hear traffic in the background and turned the volume up on your phone to hear more clearly.

“Yeah yeah if you could, that’d be great.”

“Sure. Give me a few minutes. I just woke up.”

“It’s 4PM?”

“Thanks. Wasn’t sure how to tell time.”

You’re so sweet 😘