Living the Good Life

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Jake sighed and flipped on the light in the living room, startled when he spotted Buttercup sitting in her preferred armchair.

“Hey,” he drawled. “You surprised me. I thought you were asleep. Where are the girls?”

“Asleep,” she murmured, eyes tracking him as he grabbed a beer from the kitchen.

“Good. They eat okay today?”

“Charlie doesn’t like not breastfeeding, but she’s getting used to it. Abby’s still not eating enough.”

Jake ignored her cold, indifferent tone. “She’ll get there.” He flopped onto the couch and reached for the remote.

“Jake…”

“Buttercup, it’s been a long day,” he groaned. “I really don’t want to fight tonight. The girls are asleep. Go have a bath or something, let me watch TV, and I’ll order us a pizza for dinner. Okay?”

“So, that’s it then?” Finally, her voice had a touch of a bite to it. “No comment, no nothing from you? You said no and that’s that? Your word is law?”

Jake groaned and let his hand flop back onto the sofa. “I don’t know what else you expected me to say. I’m part of the U.S. Navy. Meaning I have to be in the United States. I can’t move to England just because you got a job interview for a publishing job. There are dozens of publishers that are stateside. Why not go for one of them? I’m sure they’d let you work remotely. I don’t see why you want to move to a different continent.”

“They’re the only ones who have offered to take a look at my writing on top of my publishing responsibilities,” she hissed. “Which you would know if you paid any attention to me.”

“Okay, so you can do your whole writing thing from anywhere, can’t you? Skip the whole publisher thing and focus on writing! When you’re done writing or whatever, you can send it to a publisher! You’d at least get to stay with me that way!”

“How am I supposed to focus on my writing, Jake? I barely get a chance to breathe, let alone sit down at a computer and write!” Buttercup’s voice was weak and desperate, and grating on Jake’s nerves. He hated it when she sounded like that, and she’d been sounding like it more and more. He would’ve done anything to make it better, but he was too tired to try. “You’re not around during the day, so you don’t know what its like! One of them always needs me, and Charlie is fussy, and Abby’s not eating enough, and I can barely breathe! And you want me to what? Follow you around from base to base, taking care of our daughters on my own while you’re on deployment after deployment?”

“That is what you signed up for when you married me!” Jake shouted, his frustration and exhaustion finally bubbling over. “I thought you would’ve known that based on how often your brother gets to go home! This is what it means to be in a military family! This is what you signed up for!”

“I signed up for you!” she shouted. “I signed up for a man who loves me, who is home to share the load with me! Not a man who has his head shoved so far up Uncle Sam’s ass that he can’t see the sun!”

“Don’t you dare!” Jake stood. “Everything I do is for the safety of this country and for you and our daughters. Don’t you want our girls to grow up in a country that is safe?”

“I would rather our daughters grow up knowing their father! They barely see you anymore! And it’s only going to get worse as they get older!”

“I’ll be promoted by the time that they’re older! That means less time deployed!”

Buttercup was shaking her head, shrinking back in her seat. “You’ll never give up flying, Jake. You wouldn’t take a promotion that meant you were grounded. It’s not who you are.” Buttercup’s voice shook. “Just like sitting at home, waiting for my husband to come back while I take care of our home and children isn’t who I am. I need more.”

Jake scoffed, red creeping into the edges of his vision. He felt like he was running on autopilot, unable to stop himself or control his anger. “So, what? We’re not enough for you?”

“Don’t do that!” Buttercup snapped. “Our family is everything to me, but I need more! I need something outside of just being a mom and your wife!”

“Okay, so London is that then? Will London be enough for you?” Jake was wrangling every ounce of his strength to pull himself back, to not do this. They were both tired, both stressed. She hadn’t been herself since the babies were born, and it didn’t help that he had been deployed when they had sworn to him that he would be grounded for his first few months of fatherhood. If they could just get on the same page again, everything would be okay. But that would only happen if he could get Hangman to take a backseat and let Jake handle this.

Buttercup’s eyes flooded at his mocking tone. “Fuck you, Jake.”

Loud cries echoed through the house and Jake huffed before heading down the hall. “Go take a bath, Buttercup. I’ll take care of the girls.”

In the nursery, Jake pulled Charlie into his arms and sighed, rocking his red-faced baby girl in his arms. It would all be okay. The first year was always going to be the hardest. If they could make it through that, they would be stronger than ever.

It didn’t hit Jake that it was too late until a few days later, when he came home to find a teary-eyed Buttercup standing in the kitchen, handing him a pile of divorce papers.

Seresin Ranch, Clifton, Texas, Now

Early morning sunshine danced across her eyelids, and she tried to bury her face in the pillow beside her. It was way too freaking early to be conscious after the night she’d had, she was bone tired, and she was sore in a deeply satisfying way. The dull ache in her muscles and the muted throbbing between her thighs were better than any soreness she had ever gotten from an extended workout. It was an ache that she hadn’t felt in years.

Stretching like a cat, Buttercup slowly sat up against the headboard and blinked against the sun streaming through the grey curtains, and three things hit her in quick succession.

She was not in her bedroom. Her curtains were not grey, and her window did not face east.

She was naked. Her usual t-shirt and shorts were absent as the cool cotton sheets kissed her skin.

The soreness she was feeling was accompanied by a series of hickies and bruises that decorated her body like confetti. Her neck, her chest, her breasts, her stomach, and her inner thighs were littered with the dark purple marks, leaving her feeling like a teenager the night after prom.

Buttercup felt her stomach roil as the memories from the previous night washed over her like a tidal wave. The barbecue, fighting with Jake, dancing with Jake, having 3 a.m. grilled cheese with Jake and splitting a beer with him before giving him permission to kiss her…Jake carrying her to his bedroom and making love to her sweetly and gently, then rolling her over and fucking her hard, then taking her again in the softest, tenderest way as the sun slowly began to rise.

What had she done? What had she done? This wasn’t who she was. She had never been the type of person who just fell into bed with a guy, and certainly not when that guy was her ex-husband. But then, she had always been helpless against him. Back before things had soured between them, she had been almost as good as Maverick at keeping all of the Daggers in line, but one flash of those bright green eyes and those dimples, and she was basically Jello. She had never been able to tell him ‘no’, except for once.

Buttercup pulled her legs up tight against her chest and pressed the heels of her palms into her closed eyes until she saw stars. She was so stupid. So weak. She had put in over a decade of work to make herself stronger, strong enough to withstand being alone, strong enough to be a single mother, strong enough to hold her ground against him. And yet, like a teenage girl, she caved at the sight of gleaming abs and a cocky grin, and the sound of sweet nothings he had whispered in her ear.

What would the girls think if they found out? Would they think they were getting back together? Of course they would, that had been their plan since the beginning. But a one-night stand did not a relationship make, and neither did attraction. Attraction and chemistry had never been their problem. Communication had been, and, though they had clearly gotten better at it over the past decade, it didn’t solve all the problems that still remained between them. Past hurts and past histories and words that had been said that couldn’t be taken back.

God, how she wished she could take them back. She had been sick in the head and sick in the heart when she had uttered those poisoned words to him, wanting him to feel like she did in the most toxic way. She was toxic to him, not the other way around like so many had thought would happen. Her own brother had warned her away from Jake Seresin the minute they met, cautioning her that he would ruin her life, but he hadn’t. He had given her the greatest year and a half of her life and two daughters that she wouldn’t trade for the world. She was the one who ruined him. Just like her nickname, she was a poison, and she would only destroy him more if she stuck around.

Tears began to well in her eyes, but Buttercup quickly dashed them away as she scrambled from Jake’s bed and began searching for her clothes, which she found neatly folded on the antique wingback chair in the corner of the room. Her heart ached at the sweetness of this man, who had opened his home to her for a week so they could both get quality time with their daughters, who had ended his engagement because his fiancée had been cruel to their girls. He didn’t deserve this. Maybe the old Hangman had been cocky and brash and bold, maybe Hangman had left a trail of broken hearts behind him, but her Jake didn’t deserve to have his heart broken because she was so weak and selfish. Her heart ached at the thought of leaving him, of only seeing him at events for the girls, of eventually seeing him engaged to a woman who did deserve him. But she didn’t deserve him. She wasn’t strong enough to be his reason for living once the girls graduated.

The realization had her slowly pulling her clothes on, choking back sobs and dashing her tears away. He needed more than her. He needed someone who was strong enough to hold him up while he figured out what he wanted to do with his life once the girls had moved on. He needed someone who wouldn’t panic at the very suggestion of him going back to the Navy. She needed to walk away so that he could find that person. Despite the pain lancing through her heart and the heaviness in her limbs, she had to. She wouldn’t poison him anymore. Not when she…

More tears streamed down her face as she stumbled into his ensuite and desperately tried to make herself look like less of a heartbroken mess. He would be okay and, eventually, so would she. The girls would struggle, but she would fight like hell to make sure her girls still had so much love and support from both of their parents, even if they lived on opposite sides of the globe. They wouldn’t suffer just because their mother was toxic.

A deep wash of her face and multiple splashes of cool water later, Buttercup, resolved and heartbroken, strolled out of the bedroom and made her way back to the kitchen, finding her daughters sitting at the island while Jake flipped pancakes.

“Morning, Mom!”

“Morning, Mum!”

“Hey, darlin’,” Jake followed up the sweet chorus of their daughters’ voices with a shy grin, so unlike him but still so fitting that it made the ache in her chest deepen. “Did you sleep okay?”

Buttercup fought to keep her face straight as she regarded him with as much cool indifference as she could muster. “Yes, thank you. And good thing too. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

Plates clattered as Charlie set the island for breakfast. “What are we doing tomorrow?”

Buttercup fought the pain and panic rising in her throat as she looked at the smiling figures of her broken family. “A-Abby and I are going home tomorrow,” she croaked out. “Our flight leaves at 9 p.m.”

Silence fell like a heavy, suffocating fog over the kitchen. Abby had frozen in her seat, a juicy red grape dangling almost comically from her fingers halfway between the bowl and her mouth. Charlie wasn’t doing much better, a plate suspended in midair while her face flushed. And Jake? She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, to see the anger or pity or fury that was undoubtedly marring his handsome features.

It was Charlie who broke the silence first. “What?”

The question was so simple, but Buttercup had to brace herself before answering. “We promised you a week together, and it’s been a week. Our flight has always been leaving tomorrow.” She managed a weak smile at her daughters. “I guess time really does fly when you’re having fun.”

“Mum…” Buttercup’s heart nearly shattered at the broken, pleading sound of her baby’s voice. “Couldn’t we stay? Please?”

For the time being, Buttercup was winning the losing battle against the tears that were clogging her throat and flooding her eyes. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but we can’t. You start school next week and I have deadlines to meet. Uncle Bob and Auntie Nat have to go back to work too. But your dad and I have figured out a good schedule for visiting. You get more school vacation than Charlie does, so you’ll get to come here for a few breaks, and Charlie will get to come visit us when she has breaks, and then we’re going to split the summer in half, okay? I—” Buttercup’s voice cracked, and she turned her eyes skyward to prevent the tears from falling again. “I know it’s not what you want, but it’s the best we can do.”

“That’s BULLSHIT!” Charlie’s cry was loud and harsh. “That’s complete bullshit! You could both stay! Everyone should stay!”

Buttercup’s breath stuttered in her chest as she looked at her daughter, so full of pain and anger. “I know that you wish we could, sweetheart, but we can’t. I’m sorry!”

“You’re sorry?” Charlie was crying now, hot tears running down her red cheeks. “I only get two weeks with you after 12 years and now you’re leaving and you’re sorry? That’s bullshit!”

“Charlie…” Jake’s voice was a soft warning.

“What?” She whirled on her dad. “It is! She could stay here if she really wanted to! But she doesn’t! She doesn’t care. Not about you or me or anyone! If she cared, she wouldn’t have left us in the first place!”

“Charlie…” Buttercup couldn’t stand the way her voice crackled with tears. “Charlie, I—”

“I hate you!” Charlie turned on her, green eyes full of anguish. “I hate you!”

“That’s enough!” Jake didn’t yell, but his voice held that military tone that immediately silenced everyone in the kitchen, save for Charlie’s ragged breathing and Abby’s soft sniffles. “You do not get to talk to your mother that way. You can be angry all you want, but this is a joint decision between your mother and I, so if you hate her then you hate me too. And no matter how you feel about us, I know that I taught you respect. We do not lash out at other people because of the way we are feeling in this family. We talk it out, and if we can’t manage how we’re feeling then we take a beat before we have a calm conversation. So, go take a beat. Take a lap of the ranch and cool off, Charlie.” Jake’s tone was no-nonsense and left no room for argument. Chest heaving, Charlie stomped away and let the door slam behind her. Jake sighed and looked at his oldest daughter, sniffling quietly in her seat. “Why don’t you go with her, Abby?” His voice was gentler now. “I think maybe some fresh air and a walk will do you both some good.”

Not saying anything, Abby nodded meekly and shuffled out of the kitchen, the front door barely clicking shut in comparison to the slam that had rocked everyone to their very foundations.

Buttercup stood stock still in the kitchen doorway, hand wrapped around her throat as she fought the tears that were falling slowly.

“Buttercup…” She flinched violently away from Jake’s gentle hand on her elbow, and he held his hands up. “Buttercup, it’s alright. It’s all gonna be alright.”

She shook her head, clutching at her throat to get the words out. “She’s right. It’s all my fault.”

“Now, I thought I told you I didn’t want to hear any of that anymore,” Jake said, gently but with a hint of stern resolve. “Now, why don’t we sit down and talk about this?”

“There’s really nothing to talk about, Jake.” Buttercup’s sigh was bone-weary as she sank into one of the island stools. “We have to go home. Abby’s got school, Bob and Nat have work, I have deadlines that I’m already behind on and signings I promised to do months ago and they want me to do edits for a script for one of my novels…We promised them a week together, and that’s what they got.” She shrugged helplessly. “There’s nothing we can do to change that.”

“I get where you’re coming from, darlin’, I do…” Jake leaned against the island across from her. “But…it wouldn’t be too difficult to get Abby signed up for school here, and Bob and Phoenix are grown ups, they don’t need you to take them home. And you…” He sighed heavily. “You can write from anywhere, so why can’t you write here with us?”

Buttercup’s heart cracked wide open, years of heartbreak and loneliness and anger pouring out of her like hot lava. “I can’t believe you’re asking me that again! What about the life I’ve built for myself? My professional reputation? My friends? Abby’s friends? I have a life in London! I like my life in London!”

“I know that.” Jake kept his voice even and calm, even as he wanted to reach out and calm her. “I know I fucked it up the first time. I know I didn’t get it the first time, how much the job and the move and everything meant to you back then. But you’re an award-winning author now, Buttercup. You’re like…number one draft pick in the NFL. You would have dozens of publishers falling all over themselves and each other to publish your stories now. Hell, with the way technology has improved in the last decade, nothing would stop you from keeping your publisher in London and Zooming into meetings with them from here. Isn’t it at least an option?”

Everything he was saying made perfect sense. It was all logical and well thought out, and, for a moment, she could picture it. Staying in Clifton, on the ranch. Turning the guest bedroom into an office for her to write out of while staring out at the pretty scenery, waking every morning in the cradle of Jake’s arms and cuddling with him until their daughters dragged them from bed. Giving them a real shot.

But a real shot meant the possibility of real pain. Pain that she had barely healed from the first time. Pain that she had put him through. Pain that he didn’t deserve. He didn’t deserve any of it, but to protect him, she would have to hurt him.

“I can’t just give up my job, my life because of a one-night stand.” Her voice was cold, belying the white-hot pain that was shooting through her heart, her very soul.

“I thought I meant more to you than that?”

She could hear the pain in his voice and ducked her head, refusing to meet his eyes. “You do…” she whispered, so quiet that he wouldn’t be able to hear her. The words “You did” came at a louder volume. “But I worked too hard to get to where I am now, and so did you.” She gulped down air, feeling like the walls were closing in on her. “I…I finally healed from everything we put each other through, and we can’t just fall back together again because it’s easy.”

Jake scrubbed a hand over his face. He knew what she was talking about. They had put each other through a lot, and it had taken over a decade to even start to heal from that, but they had healed. Wasn’t he worth giving it another go? Weren’t the girls worth trying for? He tamped down the anger he felt growing in his gut and asked, “When have we ever been easy?”

“You know what I mean, Jake.” Her sigh was heavy, bowing her shoulders like she was carrying the weight of the world. “We’re familiar. We’ve been living in the same house for a week, and, in a moment of weakness, we let ourselves fall back into old habits. And it felt good. But we’ve been down this road before. We know what lies at the end of it.” Tears pricked her eyes again and she blinked them back. “Besides, you were just engaged to another woman. You were planning on going back to the Navy. I…I can’t be the thing you hold onto just because you’re afraid of what your life will look like in six years.”

Jake felt the anger within him rise, and he relied on every ounce of his military training to remain composed, to not let the anger seep into his voice. “I don’t think I’m the one who is afraid here. You’re running.”

“Jake—”

Despite the way she was shaking her head, hands covering her face, Jake moved around the island and gently put his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him. “I know you felt something last night. I felt it too. Just because we didn’t work out the first time, doesn’t mean we won’t work out this time. You don’t have to be afraid of what might happen either, sweetheart.” His voice was filled with so much warmth and passion that Buttercup felt the tears fall faster and harder down her cheeks. This sweet man. She had never deserved him. His hands stroked her upper arms as he continued. “You’ve done such a good job on your own. Abby is incredible and your books…” Jake shook his head in amazement. “You’re incredible. But you don’t have to be strong and do it all on your own anymore. I know you can, but you don’t have to. Let me help. Just stay and let me help.” He was begging and he knew it, but he couldn’t help the tightness in his chest that told him that he had to convince her to stay. That he couldn’t lose her again. “I know you felt it last night,” he ended in a murmur.

Buttercup buried her head in her hands and sobbed. He was saying all the right words and she could feel the warmth and kindness pouring out of him, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she would ruin it all again. “I…I can’t,” she cried. “We have to be the adults here. I can’t just leave my life behind and stay with you. Not again. We tried that once and it didn’t work, and we owe it to our girls to be better this time. We have to be better this time. For them. What we want doesn’t matter.”

Breath whooshed out of Jake’s lungs as he took her in. His Buttercup looked so small and broken, sobbing at his kitchen island. He had done that to her. He had broken his strong, independent, fiercely loyal and kind woman. No matter how badly he wanted to keep her, he couldn’t hold her back again. “This…this is really what you want?”

With doubt clogging her throat, she murmured, “It is.”

Jake’s shoulders bowed, and he grunted to clear the tingling in his throat and in the bridge of his nose. “Then…as you wish, I guess.”

Buttercup nearly ran down the path towards the dude ranch cabins. After a tense breakfast, one where no one said anything to each other, Buttercup got changed and got out of the ranch house as quickly as she possibly could. She felt like she couldn’t breathe with the weight of Jake’s disappointed gaze upon her and Charlie’s hate-filled words hanging in the air around them. Not even her sweet Abby had been able to look her in the eye, so she fled the moment it was acceptable to do so.

Now, she was marching to her brother’s cabin to talk to him and his best friend, to get some sort of reassurance that she was doing the right thing. She quickly climbed the two steps up and came up short when the door swung open, Javy emerging in his jeans, carrying his shirt from last night.

“Oh…” They both froze and stared at each other. “Hey Buttercup.”

“Hey Javy…”

“You, uh…” Javy shuffled his feet. “You good?”

“Not really,” she admitted, staring down at her toes. “Is Nat in there? Or Bob?”

“Bob spent the night in Mickey’s cabin with him and Yale. But Nat…” A shy smile pulled at Javy’s lips as he shrugged. “She’s asleep upstairs. I’ve gotta run to practice though. Can you tell her I said goodbye? And that I’ll see her for dinner tonight?”

Despite her own broken heart, Buttercup found herself smiling. “I’m glad you two were able to work it out. I’ll let her know.”

“Thanks, Buttercup.” He grinned and placed a light jab against her shoulder as he passed. “And hey? I’m sure whatever’s bugging you will work itself out in the end.”

“I don’t think so, Javy. But thanks.”

Buttercup let herself into the quaint little cabin and headed straight for the bedroom, where her friend was just waking up. Buttercup thanked whatever not-completely-evil god that was out there that her friend was wearing a t-shirt. After the morning she’d had, the last thing she wanted was to have her friend flash her by accident.

“Hey…” Natasha yawned as she stretched her arms over her head. “What’re you doin’ here? Where’s—” Natasha cut herself off, looking away from Buttercup.

“Javy had football practice. He says he’ll see you for dinner.” That was all Buttercup managed to get out before flopping onto the bed and sobbing.

“Jesus Christ, B!” Natasha scrambled up and pulled her crying friend into her lap. “What the hell?” A gentle hand ran up and down the length of Buttercup’s spine. “You’re alright, girl. C’mon.”

“J-Jake and I hooked up last night,” Buttercup blubbered, burying her face into the plaid comforter that covered her friend’s lap.

“And…was it…not good?” Try as she might, Natasha was struggling to see the problem.

“It was great!”

Both ladies were surprised at the strength of Buttercup’s sobs. It was unlike her to cry so much, but clearly, she had to exorcise some demons, and crying seemed to be the best way to get them out.

Natasha sighed and patted her friend on the back. “Then I am confused.”

“Join the fucking club…” Buttercup muttered, wiping her face on the bedspread before sitting up, her tear ducts seemingly empty. “We…we’re going home tomorrow. I can’t believe I was so stupid as to hook up with my ex-husband right before we’re going back home.”

“Not gonna lie, lady, but you were basically eye-fucking him all night. I’m not surprised that you two fell into bed together. The sexual tension was too great.” Natasha propped herself up against the oak headboard and stared at her friend. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know. Lots of couples do one last fuck fest after a breakup or divorce.”

“Is that what you and Javy were doing last night?” Buttercup bit out, no malice in her voice, only exhaustion.

Natasha bit her lip. “Actually…it was more of a ‘lets try this thing again’ than a ‘lets get this thing out of our systems’.”

Buttercup blinked her bloodshot eyes. “How are you two going to try it again when our flight leaves tomorrow?”

One of Natasha’s calloused fingers gently traced the scar that ran over her eye, something that she only did on the rare occasion that she was nervous. “That’s the thing…I’m not getting on that flight. Bob said that he could get me a refund with the airline since it’s, y’know, his airline.”

“You’re staying?” Of all the things she expected her best friend to say, it certainly wasn’t that. “What about your classes? Your friends?”

Natasha shrugged. “One of the other instructors can take over until they hire someone else. And there’s a gym in town that needs a new female personal trainer. Javy’s pretty sure they’d take me on the spot. And honestly, B? What friends? I had work friends that I only hung out with occasionally off the clock, and I had you and Bob. I lived in your home, ate your food, and hung out with you. No offence, because you know I love you, but not going back isn’t that big of a deal to me.”

Buttercup nodded as she looked at her friend. “I hate that you’re leaving me,” she mumbled, pulling Natasha into a fierce hug. “But I’m proud of you for giving him another shot. You just make sure he knows that if he hurts you, I’m only one transatlantic flight away from kicking his ass.”

“Or…you could always stay too and be just a walk down the road away from kicking his ass.” Natasha’s voice was gentle and kind, but Buttercup was already shaking her head. “Why not?”

“Because we tried, and we failed.”

“So did me and Javy,” Natasha nudged her.

“But you don’t have kids who will suffer if you try again and it still falls apart.”

“Fair point…” Natasha hummed and turned towards her. “What if it doesn’t fall apart?”

“I can’t risk it, Nat,” Buttercup murmured, tears welling in her eyes again. “I can’t hurt Abby and Charlie like that. They have to come first.”

“I get that.” Natasha reached out and squeezed her friend’s hand comfortingly. “But you have spent over a decade putting Abby first. You have been an amazing mother to that girl. Maybe it’s time to start putting yourself first instead.”

Buttercup squeezed back, snuggling down in her friend’s bed and sighing. If only it was that easy.

The next 24 hours passed in a blur of emotion. Charlie still wasn’t speaking to Buttercup, despite Jake’s private talk with her when she returned to the ranch house after her walk. Abby wasn’t faring much better, quiet but not angry the way her sister was. More…resigned. And Jake…well, Jake did what Jake always did. He walled up everything he was feeling behind thick, military issue shields and pretended. It was what he was trained to do. Compartmentalize and prioritize. His priority was making sure that his girls didn’t leave the ranch sad.

Buttercup’s eyes remained bloodshot for the rest of the day, and it broke Jake’s heart to see his girl so distraught. Part of him wanted to ask her to reconsider, to ask if her decision to leave was what was making her so miserable, but he didn’t. His Buttercup had only made one rash decision in her entire life: staying with him in Miramar. Every other decision had been meticulously thought out, including going to London to start over. He couldn’t blame her for that, and he couldn’t blame her for wanting to return to her life abroad, no matter how much it felt like it was killing him to let her go again.

So, Jake pushed it all down and tried to make it the best 24 hours he possibly could. He took his three girls on a trail ride after having a small goodbye lunch for their remaining guests. Fanboy, Yale, Payback and his family all enjoyed a small gathering despite the tense atmosphere. That atmosphere remained throughout the trail ride, though Jake had hoped it would help cool Charlie down. Dinner was similarly quiet, the five of them eating their spaghetti and meatballs in relative silence, though it seemed that both Rooster and Charlie were cheered to hear that Phoenix would be staying. Jake couldn’t help the glance he spared at Buttercup when that news was shared before Javy swept Phoenix out the door to keep their dinner reservation in town. He knew he couldn’t question why Phoenix was brave enough to stay and try to work things out, not when he knew why Buttercup was doing the brave thing by leaving. She was doing it so that the girls wouldn’t suffer from the fallout if they couldn’t keep their shit together a second time, and Jake couldn’t blame her. He would do anything to make sure Charlie was happy. Problem was that this decision didn’t seem to be making anyone happy.

Nobody got much sleep that night, the tension growing over the house like a big black storm cloud, what ifs and maybes swirling like a tornado. Day dawned without sun; the metaphorical storm having grown into a real one that had rain lashing at the windows. Breakfast was a silent affair, and Jake could barely choke down any lunch, one final meal before he had to say goodbye to his girls.

Bags were piled at the front door, waiting for the airport limo Bob had called for, complimentary because of his position with the airline. Six adults and two children stood in the doorway of the ranch house, waiting for the telltale sound of tire on gravel to signal the end. When Jake caught sight of headlights bouncing through the darkened sky, he sighed and gathered Abby into his arms.

“I love you, baby,” he murmured into her hair, and his heart broke as she clutched him tighter. “I’ll see you at Thanksgiving, okay?”

“I love you too, daddy.”

Jake opened his eyes and saw Buttercup ringing her hands as she approached Charlie, who had her arms crossed stiffly across her chest.

“I…I’m sorry, Charlie,” he heard her soft words and his chest ached for her. For both of them. His two girls were so strong and so stubborn, and they were both in so much pain. “I love you, sweet girl. I hope you remember that.” When it became clear that Charlie was not going to embrace her mother, Buttercup sighed and pressed a kiss to her hair instead. “I love you, darling.”

Buttercup turned to Rooster, who wrapped her in a tight hug. “You take care of yourself, alright, Buttercup?” he gravelled.

“I will. You take care of them for me, okay?”

“You know I will.”

A similar exchange happened with Javy, though Jake was sure that it included some sort of threat about treating Phoenix well, based on the slight grimace on Javy’s face as Buttercup turned and hugged her friend.

It was at that point that the car pulled up to the front door and Jake forced himself to release his daughter.

“Go say goodbye to everyone while I take your bags out,” he whispered to her, trying his best not to crumble at her tear-stained face.

She nodded and ran over to Phoenix, almost knocking her over. “I love you, Auntie Nat.”

“I love you too, kid.”

She squeezed Rooster next, the two of them having a whispered conversation as Jake passed, taking the bags out to the limo. He didn’t care that his white t-shirt was becoming see-through. He didn’t much care for anything at the moment. He was completely numb, just like he had been when he watched Buttercup and Abby walk out his front door the first time. He took his time loading the bags into the trunk before heading back into the house, feeling like he was walking to his execution.

When he stepped into the foyer, his eyes went straight to Abby and Charlie, embracing by the stairs. He sighed and turned to Bob, shaking his ex-brother-in-law’s hand before turning to Buttercup, who was watching her daughters with a sad sort of smile.

A gentle hand on her shoulder pulled her attention to him right as he pulled her into a hug. She folded into him the same way she always had, like she belonged there. Jake told himself that her trembling was because he was soaked to the bone, and if he felt moisture soaking into the front of his shirt, he told himself that was just the rain too.

She pulled away a few moments later, surreptitiously wiping at her eyes as she murmured, “It’s time to go, Abby.” She met his eyes for a fleeting second. “Thank you, Jake.”

“As you wish, sweetheart,” he murmured and escorted them onto the covered porch, where he gave Abby one more hug before pulling Charlie into his arms as they watched Bob, Buttercup and Abby make a run for the limo.

Bob held the door open as Abby slid in. Buttercup glanced over her shoulder at Jake and Charlie, standing like statues on the porch. She waved a sad goodbye before sliding in beside her daughter. Bob gave him an understanding nod before joining them and slamming the door shut. The limo roared to life and started down the dirt drive, rain and wind whipping at the windshield as they went. Abby and Buttercup huddled together on the leather seats as Bob gave instructions to the driver, and then they were silent.

Jake’s chest heaved as he watched them go, watched two-thirds of his heart walk away from him again.

“Wait!” Charlie cried, throwing off his hold and taking off down the wet and muddy driveway. “Mom, wait!” Jake lunged after her, grabbing her up in a hug as the limo disappeared between the trees, the falling rain too loud for them to hear her pleas.

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Eyes bleary, you pressed Phoenix’s contact in your phone. It rang until an automated voice said the mailbox was full. 

Finally, Bradley. He picked up at the last ring, breathless. “Y/N? Are you alright?” 

“I don’t know,” you whispered, heart racing. “I was walking and I'm in pain and I don’t know what to do.” 

“Oh Jesus.” There was a pause. Then, “Call an Uber, I’ll meet you at the hospital. That’ll be faster than me picking you up.” 

“Where’s Jake?” you demanded. “And Bobby.” 

“Test flight,” he replied. “Phoenix is with them. They’ll be gone for another few hours.” 

“I’m scared,” you admitted. 

“I know,” Bradley said. “So am I. I’m getting in my truck now, OK? I’ll meet you there, don’t worry.” 

***

True to his word, Bradley was there by the time they were placing your IV. 

“What happened?” he demanded. 

The nurse looked up. “This your boyfriend?” 

You shook your head furiously. “No.” 

She shrugged. “Too bad.” 

You rolled your eyes as she left the room. “That’s how they all are, you know,” you said as she eyed Bradley on her way out. “The second y’all step into a room wearing those outfits, girls go wild.” You flicked your hand at his green flight suit. 

Bradley stepped toward the bed. “As much as I’d love to hear how hot you think I am, so I can use it to taunt Seresin later, I need to know what happened.” 

“They don’t know yet,” you replied. “My blood pressure is a little high I guess? They’re running some labs.” 

He ran his hand through his hair and you reached out, pressing your fingertips to his other arm. “Hey. It’s OK. I’m really glad you’re here.” 

“I don’t know how you do this,” he whispered. “That’s not even my baby and I’m panicked.” 

“You’ll be a great father one day.” His brown eyes lit up. “Speaking of fathers, where’s the one responsible for this?” 

“Let me call the station again,” Bradley replied. “I’ll be right back.” 

“Hurry.” 

***

“Where is she?” Jake skidded to a stop in the waiting room as Bradley paced in a tight circle. 

“Thank fuck,” he muttered. 

“Bradshaw. Where is she?” 

“Room 219.” 

Jake practically sprinted down the hallway. Your neck snapped to the right as you heard the door bash open, Jake standing with his hair mussed from his helmet, still wearing his flight suit and a pair of standard issue boots. “What happened?” he demanded, stepping closer as his green eyes flicked over the screens on the monitors behind you.

“I’m fine,” you replied. “Relax.” 

“Relax?” Jake looked like his brains were going to burst out of his skull. “You’re joking, right? How the hell am I supposed to relax when I land and find out you’re in the damn hospital?”

“I thought military boys were good under pressure.” 

“There’s a difference,” Jake gritted out, “between gunning down enemy fire, and hearing that the mother of your child is in pain.” 

You grabbed his hand. “I’m fine,” you whispered. “Doctors said it was probably just Braxton Hicks contractions, nothing to worry about. They’re doing some blood and stress tests to make sure.” 

Jake dropped his head against your hand and you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his forehead. He looked up, surprised, mouth open just as the door swung on its hinge again, Bobby practically sprinting into the room. “What happened?” 

You rolled your eyes. “You boys are really needy aren’t you?” 

His ice blue eyes zeroed in on yours. “That’s my niece in there,” he said. “I want to know that she’s OK.” 

“I’m fine, too,” you pouted.

Bob leaned over, wrapping you into a hug. “Thank God.” 

As he leaned back, you shook your head. “Look at the two of you. Absolute messes.” Bob and Jake looked at each other, and you laughed. “Doctors said I should be able to go home in an hour. So Jake, why don’t you go tell Bradshaw he’s OK to leave. And thank him for me?” 

“Alright honey.” 

You winced as the nickname floated in the empty recesses of the room. Bob lifted an eyebrow as Jake disappeared through the door. “Honey?” 

You were silent. 

Bob leaned against the hospital bed. “I repeat, honey?” 

“Leave it alone, Bobby.” 

“You’re my sister, I deserve to know what’s going on.” 

“You don’t have to be dad,” you whispered. Bob looked up, angry, but you continued. “I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions. I don’t need you watching out for me and policing everything I do.” He started to speak but you cut him off with one hand raised. “I love you. And I love you for taking care of me and looking out for me. But when I say I need you to trust me, I need you to ease up a little.” 

Bob sighed. “Sometimes, I don’t know who I am if I’m not looking out for you.” 

You smiled and grabbed his hand. “I think you owe it to yourself to have a little fun. Be a little wild.” 

He grinned. “Wild? No way.” 

“Go out, have fun, be reckless.” You patted your stomach. “Have a beer for me. Or five.” 

He shook his head and stood up. “Do you want me to drive you home or Jake?” 

“Jake.” 

Bob walked to the door and pulled it open. “I feel like a dad dropping his kid off at kindergarten for the first time, watching you walk away.” 

“You know when I get married someday, you’re going to have to be the one to give you away.” 

“Don’t know if I can do that, Ducky.” 

You frowned. “What?” 

Bob sighed. “I can’t give you away, Ducky. You never needed me that much. You never needed anyone. You were always enough, by yourself.” 

***

Jake wouldn’t let you out of his sight for even a minute from the moment the two of you stepped through the door. 

Finally, after you had settled into a pair of pajamas and eaten takeout, you turned to Jake. “You stink, by the way.” 

He furrowed his brows. “Excuse me?” 

“Go shower, please, I’m begging you.” 

He hesitated and you groaned. “What?” 

“You’re going to make me stand there, aren’t you?” you asked. “Like some overprotective new mother who puts her baby in a car seat and brings them into the bathroom while she takes a whore’s bath.” 

“Whore’s bath?” 

“You know. When you wash your private parts in the sink instead of taking a full shower.” 

Jake laughed. “I don’t know what’s funnier. The idea of you doing that, or the fact that you said private parts.” 

You shoved his arm playfully. “Shut up.” 

“Fine. I’ll shower. But you better not move until I’m back.” 

“Oh, what a threat,” you replied, snuggling deeper into the couch and flicking on the latest episode of Love Island. 

Jake emerged five minutes later, pulling a white t-shirt down over his still damp abs. Your eyes boggled for a moment before you could help yourself. “I saw that.” 

“I hate you.” 

“Stop being so mean to me, it’ll make me fall in love with you.” 

“You’re damaged goods, Seresin.” 

“You’re one to talk, Ducky.” 

“Ouch,” you giggled. “Is this foreplay?” 

Jake crawled onto the couch, crouching over you, one of his hands next to your head, the other brushing back the hair on your cheek. “Do you want it to be?” 

“Yes,” you breathed and Jake grinned. “But the doctor said I needed to wait at least forty-eight hours to make sure my blood pressure went down before I did any vigorous activity. And I have a feeling vigorous would be the right word choice.” 

Jake pulled back, a smirk across his handsome face. “Alright, let’s make a deal. I’ll plan a date for us on Friday. You pull out the sexiest dress you have and we’ll go out on the town.” 

You groaned. “Sexy dress? Are you kidding? I'm a whale.” 

“I’ll leave my card on the table. Buy a new dress.” 

“Jake, I can’t.” 

“It’s not a request, sweetheart,” he replied. “I like red on you.” 

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“He doesn’t want me, he just thinks it’s what’s right. To Jake, it’s all about the logical next step. But nothing about this is logical.” 

“Have you two actually sat down and talked?” she asked. “Since you moved in together.” 

You paused. Natasha was right. You and Jake hadn’t had a productive conversation in months. And the clock was ticking. You still had baby classes to sign up for and books to read and hospitals to tour. Not to mention all of the unknowns. What was going to happen when you had the baby? How was coparenting going to look? 

“You’re annoying,” you replied, putting a baby bottle in the cart. 

Natasha laughed. “Only because I’m always right.” 

***

The faster Jake ran, the less space he had in his head to think of you. 

As his feet hit the pavement, he tried to push the thoughts that had taken up residency in his mind to the fringes. He was tired of not knowing where the two of you stood or if you cared about him or if you were simply going to disappear one day, never to be heard of again. He was too tired to hide what he wanted any more. 

He wanted you. 

He wanted you and he wanted the baby and he wanted everything that came with it. But wanting you was more complex than it seemed. You were like a wild horse, spooked easily. He had spooked you before, when he mentioned the house. That was too fast and too big. 

He had to take a step back and let you breathe. But Jake wasn’t used to small. He was all about big gestures. He was trained to go fast, and that trickled down into his everyday life. 

For the first time in his life, Jake wanted to go slow with someone. 

***

You woke up to screaming. 

It had been months since Jake had experienced a nightmare. And still, the yelling made your skin start to prickle with cold sweat. You were slower to get out of bed this time, bump barely covered by the thin tank top as you rushed down the hallway, swinging his door open. 

Jake laid on the bed, thrashing. You approached carefully, reaching out and trying to grab his shoulder. His hand came out and smacked you, hard, across your upper arm and a gasp escaped from your throat. Jake’s eyes shot open and you dug your fingers harder into his flesh, holding onto him. 

“Y/N,” he choked out, green eyes wild. 

“It’s me,” you whispered. “I’m here. It’s just a dream. You’re alright.” 

His bare chest continued to heave, heavy thick breaths. You smoothed your fingers over his upper arm, across his shoulders. 

“I’m here,” you repeated. 

“Stay with me,” Jake asked quietly. You frowned but he turned and there was a sadness buried along each crevice of his face. “Please?” 

“Scoot over,” you whispered. Jake inched over and opened up the blanket. You laid yourself down with a small grunt, the weight of the baby sitting on your uterus, and turned to your side to face Jake. He was still on his back, chest glistening with sweat, staring at the ceiling fan that whirled in a tight circle. “What happened?” 

His lips were pursed tightly. “It’s always the same,” he murmured. “I’m in the air. And then I’m not. And I’m just falling and falling.” He turned his head. “But this time, I had time to think.” 

“What were you thinking?” 

“That I would never get to meet our daughter.” 

Without thinking, you found yourself nestling into the space next to Jake, your head resting between his shoulder and arm as his fingertips landed on your back, your belly pressed up against his side. “It was just a dream,” you whispered. 

“Do me a favor,” Jake said softly.

“I’m already giving birth to your child but sure, what’s another favor.” 

“Don’t take her away from me.” 

You looked up, but Jake wouldn’t meet your gaze. So you reached up, placing your hand against his jaw, tilting his head toward you. “You’re her father. Nothing is going to change that.” 

“If you’re gone, so is she.” 

“Is that what you’re worried about?” you asked. “That I’m going to keep her from you?” Jake nodded. Your fingers traced softly down his jawline. “I wouldn’t do that.” 

Jake was quiet for a moment. Then, “That’s only part of it.” 

You frowned. “Hmm?” 

“I’m worried about losing both of you,” he murmured. 

“Jake,” you whispered. 

“I know you want to see other people, but I don’t want you to.” 

“But you’re seeing other girls.” 

“I stopped,” he said and your breath caught in your throat. “That’s not what I want.” Jake reached out and hovered his hand over your belly. You caught his hand in yours and placed it, gently, on your bare stomach. It was the first time in months that Jake had touched your belly. It was larger now, properly rounded and stretched, and you felt his breath suck in as his fingertips grazed over your warm skin. 

“Alright,” you whispered. “We give this a try. If that’s what you want?” 

“It’s what I want.” Jake’s eyes focused on yours. “But is it what you want?” 

You reached up and lifted his face toward yours, sliding your thumb across his lips. “I think so, yeah. Worth a shot, right?” 

And then you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. 

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Your job at one of the local bakeries near the heart of the city provided you with enough money for your portion of the rent, food, and enough to spend however you saw fit, a feat you still weren’t sure how you managed. Your boss was a lovely older woman in her mid-fifties who greeted you with a smile every morning as you clocked in for your shift. Thankfully, she preferred to do the early, early morning prep work herself along with her daughter, so you weren’t expected to walk through the doors until sometime around eight every morning.

You enjoyed the tediousness of the job, the routine giving you something to latch on to in the unfamiliarity of the big city. Annie had been coaching you diligently on how to navigate the never-ending, concrete streets and sprawling subways. Your Midwest manners were quickly stamped down by your burgeoning experience with the different crowds that inhabited the city.

“Don’t walk around at night by yourself if you can avoid it,” Annie had told you during your first week there, the two of you headed back to the apartment after you had decided to go out for dinner. “There are a bunch of crazies out here, Mousie. Me? I’m used to this place, but you got that air about you that just invites people to take advantage.”

You hummed, trotting a few paces to try and keep up with her much longer legs. She cast you a sideways glance with a grimace of an apology.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything bad by it,” she sighed, hands pushed into her pockets as she slowed slightly to give you a break. “You’ll perfect the art of the ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe before you know it, Mouse.”

And you liked to think that you had come along way in the few weeks you had spent in the city, perfecting your mean, scary face so that people wouldn’t approach you. Some still did, but the number had certainly decreased. Though, you still felt the nagging feeling of guilt every time you outright ignored someone, averting your eyes and hanging your head as you walked a little faster down the street.

Today was a day you, thankfully, had off. Though, you still rose early, your body already used to the schedule of the bakery, and as you stretched in bed, your mind wandered to the container of chocolate chip cookies that sat on the counter in the kitchen. A gift from your boss, albeit they were cookies that would have been thrown in the trash anyway due to their age of only two days.

You lay in bed for the next half hour, dozing as the light of the day streamed in past your curtains, illuminating your still plainly decorated room. Annie had offered to take you shopping for more decor, but you had insisted on earning your own money and paying for your own decor.

“It’s not like I don’t have the extra cash, babe,” she told you, lips pulled back into a grimace as she watched you flit about the apartment.

“I’m serious, Annie,” you told her, glancing over your shoulder at her as you set the mop to the side. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness either.”

“How is it taking advantage if I’m offering?” She muttered with a scoff. You had shot her a warning look before placing your hands on your hips.

“I need to prove to myself that I can do this,” you sighed, feeling your shoulders slump.

“Alright, alright,” she relented, giving you an understanding smile. “But if I give you gifts, you have to accept them. It’s a law or something.”

You smiled fondly at the memory, pulling a pillow close to your chest, one of Annie’s many “gifts” as she called them. Your eyes flickered open with a stifled yawn before you lazily rolled over on to your feet. You padded out the door and down the hall to your shared bathroom, Annie’s soft snores filtering out past her closed door. Her job often kept her up until the early morning hours, and there were days where you were headed off to work just as she was walking through the door.

You brushed your teeth and got ready for the rest of the day, settling on a pair of faded jeans, a plain, white t-shirt underneath a beige cardigan and a pair of simple sneakers. You didn’t have much planned for the day, but you had been meaning to check out one of the bookstores downtown. Your groceries were getting low too, and you knew you’d have to go and get more soon, adding a trip to the grocery store to your list of things to do that day. You settled on the couch with a cup of tea, inhaling the aromatic steam that wafted up towards you as you turned on the TV, the news popping up to greet you. A string of violent crimes plagued the city, but you had slowly become accustomed to that news as well during your time there.

Eventually, you grew bored with the news, choosing instead to turn on the latest crime documentary from Netflix, the serious tones of the detectives and witnesses filling the quiet, morning air and lulling you back to a place somewhere between sleep and awake.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when the sound of Annie’s door opening jolted you awake. You blinked, shuffling to sit up on the couch just as she trudged through the doorway, rubbing sleep from her eyes and looking around blearily.

“Wha’ time’s it?” She asked, voice thick with sleep as she rubbed her face. Her hair was sticking up every which way, her eyes still ringed with the tinges of last night’s makeup. You knew she must have had a particularly late night.

“Uh,” you started, glancing at the clock above the stove, “just before noon.”

“Shit!” She hollered out, eyes growing wide and panicked as she turned to sprint back into her room. You heard a commotion from her room before footsteps sounded in the hall, leading to the bathroom where the shower creaked to life, the spray hitting the tub. You sighed, hoisting yourself up off the couch to rinse your mug out in the sink. The shower didn’t run long, and soon you heard the creak of the valves turning off, soft thuds and movement coming from behind the door. Annie burst out, drying her hair furiously as she padded into her room wearing nothing but the small towel wrapped around her.

“Cannot believe I overslept,” she griped, her door closed just enough to provide herself some privacy as you waited in the kitchen.

“It’s a bit early for you to head down to the club, isn’t it?” You asked, brow furrowing. Usually, Annie didn’t head in for another couple of hours, and you heard her let out a huff as she appeared back in the kitchen dressed in a pair of jeans, fitted black top and matching heels. Even running late, she still looked immaculate.

“Bosses want us there extra early today to try out some new routines,” she explained.

“Bosses?” You frowned. “I thought your boss was Reuben?”

“He is,” she assured you, digging through her purse to make sure her keys were still inside. “But the big bosses are coming in today.”

“Who are the big bosses?” You asked, leaning over the counter. She paused, pressing her lips firmly together before giving you an uncertain look.

“No one you wanna get involved with, Mousie,” she said finally. “I mean, they’re nice enough guys, but…”

She trailed off, and the implication wasn’t lost on you. You offered her a tight smile, glancing at the stovetop clock once more before waving her off.

“You better get going before you’re even more late,” you warned, nodding to the time. She cursed again, shouting a quick “thanks” over her shoulder as she sped out the apartment, the door slamming closed behind her. You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes affectionately after her before grimacing at the apartment. Perhaps you would make it to that bookstore another time. For now, you settled on grabbing your own purse to go grocery shopping.

You had just made it back into the apartment when your phone buzzed. You settled the bags on top of the counter, your fingers aching with the strain of the multitude of bags before fishing your phone out of your bag. Annie’s name flashed across the top, and you quickly unlocked your phone before your eyes landed on the all too familiar words.

I forgot something at the apartment.

Could you grab it for me and bring it by the club pretty please? :(

You huffed out a laugh, typing out a quick response to let her know that of course you would bring whatever it was she forgot to the club for her.

You’re the best! Came her even quicker reply, and you just knew she had been pacing nervously backstage, biting her fingers in that terrible habit she had when she was nervous.

It’s a pair of silver heels and a hot pink boa. They should be on my desk chair. You can’t miss them!

You shook your head, noting how she herself missed them in her rush out the door this morning, but dutifully made your way to her room, pushing the door open as you stepped inside. Sure enough, the heels and the boa lay draped on top of the chair in question, and you quickly gathered them up in your arms to bring back into the kitchen. You grabbed your phone, firing off a quick reply.

I’ve gotta put groceries up really quick, but then I’ll head over. Give me about an hour?

Anything for you, Mouse! I owe you!

You laughed outright at that. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for your roommate, and you often found yourself making the trip down to the club to bring her something she forgot. You set your phone down and made fairly quick work of the groceries, storing the bags underneath the sink for later use. You grabbed your things before grabbing the heels and the boa, pausing to grab the box of cookies that still sat on the counter before making your way out the door and locking it behind you.

It was about a twenty-minute train ride to the neighborhood where Annie worked, and you exited the subway with a squint as your eyes readjusted to the daylight. You walked a block south, coming upon the familiar, unassuming building with a sign that read “The Hard Deck” in a pretty, pink scrawl across the top of the entrance. A man dressed in all black stood by the door, his face mean and intimidating with eyes hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses. You grinned up at him as you approached, and a hint of a smile pulled on his lips as he caught sight of you.

“Hey Tony,” you greeted, wiggling your fingers with the hand that held the heels and the boa. “How’s your day been?”

“It’s better now that you’re here, Mouse,” he chuckled, relaxing his posture somewhat. “I take it Annie forgot something again?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged, rolling your eyes playfully. “Name a time she hasn’t, you know?”

He laughed at that, his head resting against the brick of the building as he rolled his shoulders out.

“She used to tear out of here like a bat from hell before you came to town, ya know,” he grinned. “Wonder what she’s gonna do when you’re not around anymore to spoil her like this.”

“Well,” you started, “hopefully that won’t be for a while yet. Now, do you want a cookie before the others eat them all?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” he laughed, pushing off from the side of the building to peek into the box you held in your hand. He grabbed one, taking a bite and humming as you walked past him and into the building.

When you had first found yourself stepping into Annie’s work, you had been apprehensive, expecting a seedy, little hole in the wall with sticky floors and tacky decor. Instead, you were greeted with a clean, sultry business that Annie told you had earned a reputation of being the best in the city.

“It’s actually pretty classy,” she had told you when you first asked her about what she did for a living. “It’s a lot of high end clients that frequent there, and they tip pretty well too. It’s decent pay to begin with and the manager is a pretty good guy too.”

You had met Reuben on one of your first trips to the club, the handsome man not being at all what you expected from a manager. He was young, for one thing, hovering somewhere between mid-thirties and forty if you had to guess. He was dressed to the nines every time you saw him, a friendly smile always on his face as he greeted you. He was nowhere to be seen now as you strolled into the Hard Dark, voices filtering out from different areas of the large room and from backstage as your eyes swept the area.

There were no windows, the only lights coming from the artificial ones that hung overhead. The main color was black, a red carpet curving across the floor and red drapes hanging from off the walls with gold accents placed everywhere. It gave a feeling of old Hollywood, almost.

“There you are!”

You turned just as Annie rushed over to you, pulling you in for a tight hug. She pulled away, grabbing her heels and boa from you.

“You’re a lifesaver, Mousie!” She beamed, and you waved her off.

“I wasn’t doing much anyway,” you told her, shifting the box of cookies into your now free hand. “I brought the cookies too for everyone.”

“You’re so sweet, babe. Come hang out with us for a while,” she cooed, pulling you further towards the main stage. Familiar faces of the different staff greeted you as you walked through, several waving and others following you once they spotted the bright pink box in your hands. You often brought goodies from the bakery, making you an instant hit with the employees at the club.

“What did you bring for us today, Mouse?” Bryan, one of the bartenders called.

“Cookies!” You called back with a smile.

“You’re such a godsend, hun,” said Lindsey, one of the other dancers. “I never have time to go to this place before it closes.”

“One of the perks of being roomies with an employee there,” Annie grinned at her, swiping a cookie as you set the box down on the stage and opened the lid. Several others clambered toward the stage to snag a cookie before retreating and allowing the next wave in. You were so caught up in the conversations happening around you that you didn’t notice the figure come out from the back.

“What’s going on here?” A deep timber asked. You noticed Annie stiffen visibly beside you before turning your head to look at the newcomer. He was tall, brown hair curled against his forehead that pointed towards a pair of golden brown eyes. Scars littered the golden skin of his face, and you couldn’t help but notice the strong muscles that lay hidden beneath his dress shirt. Your lips twitched at the sight of the mustache that hung above his upper lip, but you quickly tamped it down as you took in the nervous faces around you. He swaggered over towards where you stood, the small crowd parting easily for him, and you had to tilt your head back just to meet his gaze.

“Shouldn’t you all be working?” He pointed out. His voice was light, playful even, but the underlying warning in his tone was palpable, and all but Annie and yourself hastened to get away. You swallowed slightly, shifting uneasily at the change in the atmosphere. Annie stood still next to you, not saying a word which was unlike her.

“And who might you be?” He asked, leaning against the stage with a smirk. “Think I would have remembered a pretty face like yours. You lookin’ for a job, hm?”

“She’s my roommate,” Annie replied before you could say anything. “She’s just stopping by to drop off a few things I forgot is all.”

“Is that so?” The man hummed, peeling his eyes away from you long enough to cast her an unreadable look before they shifted back to you. “So you’re the little mouse Reuben mentioned pops by from time to time, huh?”

“I guess,” you muttered, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt as you looked anywhere but at him. You felt his smirk grow as he leaned into you, his nose almost brushing yours in the process. You squeaked at the sudden proximity, eyes widening as the smell of his cologne encircled you, the scent of sandalwood, vanilla, and something woodsy ensnaring you as he spoke.

“My name’s Bradley, Mouse,” he murmured, lips curling into a sultry smile as he laced a finger through the loop of your jeans. “You gonna give me a taste?”

You had the distinct feeling that he wasn’t talking about the cookies that still sat on the stage. Without thinking, you grabbed the box, bringing it between you and Bradley, putting some distance between the two of you enough so that you could try to scramble for a coherent thought.

“Here,” you squeaked. Bradley looked stunned for a second, brown eyes wide as he looked from you, down towards the box. There was a moment of still silence before he tossed his head back with a loud laugh, one that caused several people nearby to jump. He looked back at you with a wicked grin, taking the box from your hand and putting it back on the stage with an added chuckle. He grabbed your waist, pulling you flush against him and bringing a hand up to cradle your face as he leaned down, his breath fanning over you.

“I might just have to keep you, honey,” he purred, eyes hooded as he drank you in. Your face warmed at the combination of his words and his hand around your waist that slowly started to wander.

“What are you doing, Rooster?”

You jumped at the new voice, turning your head with a gasp as your eyes landed on the stranger standing next to Reuben. His square jaw was clenched in what you could only assume was annoyance, narrowed, green eyes moving from Bradley down to you. His face softened slightly, brow arching as he took you in. You thought you saw his lips twitch in the hint of a smirk before neutrality settled over his features once more.

“Hey, Mouse!” Reuben greeted, his friendly demeanor almost unnerving. He acted as if you weren’t being held captive in the arms of a strange man, instead looking from you towards where Annie stood behind you. “I didn’t know you were stopping by today.”

“Annie forgot something,” you offered weakly, breath still ragged from how close Bradley still held you.

“Rooster,” the blond man spoke up, his voice commanding attention, “you’re scaring the poor thing. Why don’t you let her go?”

Bradley grunted but let you go slowly, shooting you a wink as you backed up a couple of steps. The blond man stepped forward, hands shoved into the pockets of his expensive looking pants as a slow smirk crawled onto his lips.

“So you’re the little mouse we’ve heard so much about,” he drawled, stopping just in front of you. You shrugged, not saying anything as you averted your gaze. The man arched a brow at you, taking a hand out of his pocket to place a finger underneath your chin, lifting it so that you met his emerald gaze.

“Words, darlin’,” he purred, something twinkling in his gaze as you looked at him. You swallowed thickly.

“Yes,” you replied, earning a hum. The man’s finger traced along your jaw before his hand cupped the side of your neck gently, almost possessively.

“Good girl,” he praised, and something inside of you unexpectedly preened at the words. He leaned forward, the smell of patchouli and a hint of citrus hitting your nose at the movement. His lips brushed against your ear as he murmured, “my name is Jake.”

A shiver ran up your spine, and you felt his lips curl into a grin at your reaction.

“Shouldn’t we be getting back to business?” Bradley snapped, looking put out as Jake withdrew from you. The blond snorted with a roll of his eyes as he stepped back towards his companions.

“Since when do you give a shit?” He asked, the challenge hollow as he kept walking, Reuben quick to fall in line behind him. Bradley frowned as he watched Jake walk past, a muscle twitching in his jaw. His eyes looked back at you, lips curving in a thoughtful smile before shooting you a wink and following his two companions.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, Annie coming up behind you quickly.

“I am so sorry,” she cried, blue eyes big and sorrowful.

“Why are you sorry?” You asked with a snort, brushing your hands down your rumpled shirt. “They’re the ones who’ve never heard of personal space, apparently.”

“Babe, do you not realize who they are?” She asked, brow furrowing as she studied you, lips pursing as she shook her head.

“Of course you don’t,” she muttered, placing a hand on her forehead as she sucked in a breath. “God, I’m so fucking stupid sometimes. How could I forget to tell you one of the most basic things?”

“Annie, what are you talking about?” You asked, crossing your arms as a sinking feeling came over you. Her eyes snapped open as she looked at you with an uncharacteristically solemn expression.

“There’s a lot more to this city than you realize,” she told you. “There are groups always grabbing for power and control of it, and right now there are two who are going head to head: the Daggers and the Harpies. You just met the two men who are in charge of the Dagger syndicate, Mouse: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin and Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw. ”

Your heart sank, and your head involuntarily whipped around towards where the group of men walked off to. You spotted them sitting in one of the booths, Reuben talking animatedly about something or other, but your stomach did a flip as you realized that both Jake and Bradley were already looking at you. The blond arched a brow at you while the brunette waggled his fingers at you with a playful smirk. Annie followed your gaze, sighing before continuing.

“And it looks like you’ve gone and caught their eye.”

At this point, you were pacing. Nat was trying to be nice by setting you up with Bradley's friend from high school. He had just moved to the city for a job and Nat knew you needed to get back out there after your boyfriend of three years decided to break up with you because he 'didn’t feel like things were going anywhere.'

You made your way into the kitchen, your heels clicking on the linoleum. The clock on the oven read 8:57 pm.

Is he seriously an hour late?

When you heard a knock on the door you couldn’t stop the irritation in your voice, “Finally!” You walked over to the door, opening it with a smile that you hoped didn’t have too much annoyance behind it.

You were greeted by a tall man with sandy blond hair. You couldn’t deny that he was quite handsome and the way he said your name had a touch of a southern drawl.

You gave him a polite smile, "Jake?"

He shook his head slightly, "Seresin."

"Seresin?" Your brow furrowed in question.

"Seresin," he says it so matter-of-factly. "Yeah, too many Jakes in the friend group. Everybody calls me Seresin.”

You guessed that made sense, "WeII, it's nice to finally meet you, Seresin." You couldn’t help but emphasize the ‘finally,’ albeit by accident.

Seresin looked down at his watch, "Am I Iate?"

"Um... just an hour." You bit your cheek a little. You didn't want to make him feel too bad, "But I just finished getting ready and Nat said you tended to be a little late.”

"Brad said you'd probably have somthing to say about it."

Bastard. You thought to yourself but fought to put a smile on your face. “Oh, did he?" The two of you laughed unconvincingly.

Could this be any more awkward? You weren't sure you wanted the answer to that question.

"Well, should we go?" You gave him a nice smile grabbing your purse and house key.

“Yeah, Iet's go.” He quickly walked ahead of you towards the street where he parked. Your heels clicked as you tried to catch up to his long strides.

"So, how long have you known Bradley for?" You tried your best to get to know the man. You waited to put some effort into this date, despite feeling that things weren't going to work out between you two.

"High school." Seresin was certainly a curt man.

"Oh. Wow. I've known Nat since college." When he didn't say anything you realized the walk to the street from your apartment was far longer than you remembered.

You looked at the cars lining the street and were led to a lifted black truck, "Wow... That's a large truck."

Does this man have a complex? You couldn't help the thought.

He wasted no time getting into the driver's side and rolled down the passenger window "Hop in."

What a gentleman... You opened the door and practically jumped into the passenger seat, a challenge in the heels you decided to wear for the occasion.

He looked at you, "So, where shall we go?"

"Umm?" You paused for a second, "Where did you make the reservations? …That you said you were gonna make..." you looked over at him only to be met with a blank expression, "You didn't make them.” At this point it was more of a statement then a question.

"I said that?" Reservations didn't sound like him and he didn't look like the type to make reservations. Honestly, he seemed like the type to fly by the seat of his pants. “We can go anywhere. I don't care. We can- You pick! We'II just slide in and grab a table."

Yet another decision for you to make... "Okay. Umm, how about Maverick? You ever been there? They have great food and-“

"Sounds good." The truck roared to life as he ignored your question and subsequent explanation.

Before putting the car in drive his phone began to ring at full volume.

Slow ride

Take it easy

"It's just my cell." He looked at the number and quickly put the phone face down.

"I figured...” You tried your best to hold back your annoyance. “You can answer it if you-"

“Nah, it'll go to voicemail," he interrupted.

Slow down, go down

Got to get your lovin' one more time

“Please, just answer it, it's fine.”

He looked down at his phone, “It’s… I can wait." Another moment passed with that god-awful ringtone still blasting.

Hold me, roll me

Slow ridin' woman, you're so fine

“AII right. Yeah. It's a bit much…” he placed the phone to his ear. A somewhat nervous lilt in his voice, “Hey... you!” He paused listening to the person on the other line. "WeII, you know me, always doing something." He paused once more "Yeah... Okay... Eleven? Yeah…” He looked over at you "You know what? Make it 10:30." He smiled at the response you couldn't quite hear. "AII right… AII right, Iater." He hung up the phone "Sorry... sick friend. You know how it is."

Sick friend? Does he think I'm stupid? You shake my head looking down at your purse, “You know, we don't have to do this."

"ReaIIy? Okay!" He stared at you waiting for you to get out of his truck.

Your jaw practically fell open, “Oh my God! Are you serious!?” You were just trying to be nice, not expecting him to jump at the opportunity to ditch you.

He rolled his eyes leaning in the steering wheel. “Okay, Iet's be honest. You knew the moment you saw me you didn't Iike me.”

“That not… completely true…” you weren’t blind, Seresin was attractive. Honestly, he was beyond attractive, he was hot! However, that didn’t distract from just how much of a dick he was being. Your thoughts moved to how excited Nat was for you to get back out there. “But our friends set this up… maybe we owe it to them to-”

“To what? Spend a couple hours faking small talk? And for what? In hopes to get drunk enough to hook up with each other?”

“Hook up?! What do I look like? Just some easy lay? What kind of an asshoIe are you?”

“Look, it’s a Saturday night, I wanna have fun. I can go see my…sick friend and you can go do... whatever it is you do on a Saturday night.” You could see the gears turning in his head, “Do you blog? You look like a someone who was on Tumblr at some point in their life.”

“Do I blog? Tumblr?!” Is this man serious?! “Okay, you know what?” You maneuvered in your seat to face him, “Here’s a tip, if you want to ensure that a date isn’t a complete dumpster fire before it even begins: don't show up an hour late, have a plan, and don't set up a fucking booty call right in front of the person!”

Seresin feigned a shocked expression, “She's sick!”

“Oh, sure! And what were you going to do? Heal her with your magic dick?!”

“Okay, you wanna go out? Fine, we'II go out—"

“Oh God no! Are you crazy? I'm not going out with you now!” at this point you were definitely yelling, but you didn't care.

He let out a frustrated sigh, “I don't know what they were thinking…”

You hop out of the truck, stumbling slightly on your heels, “Yeah, me neither!” You slammed the truck door before making your way back to your apartment.

Seresin called Bradley as he began to drive down the road. “Hey man, how’d it go? She’s cute right?”

“Yeah, but you forgot to mention she has a stick up her ass! I’ve never been good with the smart ones, B, you know this!"

At the same time, you called Nat as you made the trek back to your apartment. “Oh no… that was quick…”

“Nat, what were you thinking?!”

“What do you mean what was I thinking? Sure, he’s a little rough around the edges, but you have to admit he is a cutie.”

You shake your head, unlocking your door. “God, Nat, the only way you can make this up to me is if you promise I never have to see that asshole again.”

But never seeing Seresin was not in the cards.

In the years that followed the two of you were constantly around each other because of Bradley and Nat. At their wedding, you were the maid of honor with Seresin being the best man. You were side by side when they announced they were having a baby and when they found out it was a baby girl. You were some of the first people to meet Nicole after she was born and, for some reason, they asked the two of you to be her godparents. Before you knew it, 3 years had passed and both of you were now attending Nic’s first birthday.

You were helping put the finishing touches on the decorations when Bradley and Seresin walked in. You all gathered in the living room, glasses of champagne in hand.

Nat and Bradley stood next to each other, his arm around her waist and her head on his shoulder. They looked so happy and in love, something you hoped one day you would find.

“Before everyone gets here…” Nat raised her glass, “A toast to Nic's favorite people.”

Bradley raised his glass along with his wife, "And our best friends. We made it through her first year with at least some of our sanity still intact, thanks to you two.”

You and Seresin raised your glasses toasting one another. Taking a sip of his drink, Seresin couldn't help but chuckle, "Aww, Nat! Are you crying?"

She tried to wipe the tears falling onto her cheeks, “NO!”

You all laughed at her sappy demeanor, blissfully unaware that soon everything would change.

As always, feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

Top Gun Taglist: @callsign-viper @luckyladycreator2 @saturnsbabe69 @desert-fern @pono-pura-vida @dempy

People who responded with comments/reblogs to the post I made about this: @djs8891 @multiverseprincess @littlestatesman @sunshineandbradbrad

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---

“He really didn’t call last night?” Millie finally asks. She’s been watching you out of the corner of her eye for the better half of an hour, sitting in a plastic chair on the opposite side of the gift shop’s counter as she unconvincingly flips through the pages of a bridal magazine.

The stack Millie brought to your work was an attempt to distract you so you would have something to think about other than Jake, but you’ve done nothing other than stare at the same wedding dress on the same page since Millie arrived. You can’t even say it’s a nice dress that would compliment your friend’s figure, so you’re about as useless as they come for a Maid of Honor. Dresses, flowers, bachelorette parties—it all sits nestled in the back of your mind, and you’d feel horrible for not taking the details of the wedding more seriously, but right now you’re not alone in using it as a distraction from missing the men in your lives. 

At least Millie has received some reassurance. Rooster has taken every opportunity to call her, to comfort her, to express his love. But Jake? Nothing. The most you’ve gotten is a “He’s fine, just a bit drawn into himself lately. Got a lot on his mind,” from Millie who reported that information secondhand from her fiance. 

That Jake has put you in a place of questioning is a blow to your heart, but in an effort to stay sane, you haven’t allowed yourself to create potential explanations for him in your head. He’ll reach out eventually, and when he does, you trust he’ll give you all the answers you need. 

But for now, you shake your head. 

“What is wrong with that boy?” Millie huffs, leaning back in her chair. “I was hopin’ he’d make up for his lack of calls with a beautiful handwritten letter confessin’ his love, but good lord.”

“He already told me he loves me.”

The magazine drops onto her lap. Her jaw practically unhinges. “How are you just tellin’ me this now?” she asks. “What did you say?”

Running your fingers through your hair, you close your magazine and shove it aside. “He didn’t let me say anything,” you tell her, relief washing over you at finally letting it out. “It was over the phone as they were leaving, and he hung up before I could get two words in.”

Millie sighs. “Oh, Honey.” She sits up and scoots the chair as close to the counter as possible so she can easier wrap your hand in hers. 

“You know–” she begins, but then pauses as she rethinks, “Or, well, maybe you don’t know—but you should know Jake doesn’t throw that word around lightly. I haven’t known him as long as the others, but I do know that you were a total game-changer. He told all of us that from the moment he saw you he was a goner.”

Heat floods your cheeks at hearing the words he once told you. You’ve believed him to be genuine for a long time, but it’s incredibly fulfilling to know he felt strongly enough to tell his friends before you were willing to consider your own feelings for him.

Being honest with yourself, you weren’t in the same place the first time you saw Jake. You thought he was beautiful and magnetic, and being that beautiful and magnetic, you were convinced he was going to be just as troublesome. There was no room in your mind to consider yourself a goner. Your shields were unbreakable. But now, when you replay the last few months of your life—replay the first time you really took him in, the first time his fingers touched yours—you can acknowledge that in choosing to stay here, the feelings you’ve developed for him were inevitable. Goner for goner—it just took you a moment to catch up.

Millie grins at the red tinge you can’t conceal. “He’s been Mr. Game Changer himself, hmm?”

Shooting her a look before playfully rolling your eyes, you say, “Don’t tease me about things you already know, Millie.”

“The next time he calls, do you want me to tell Bradley to knock some sense back into that pretty, blond head?”

You chuckle. “No, it’s ok,” you say. “Jake was patient with me. It’s my turn to be patient with him. He’ll come through.”

“I’m sure it'll be soon. For you, he’d–” Millie’s eyes flick just past your head. “Oh, fuck no,” she mutters as the store’s door swings open and closes from behind you. “We don’t accept trash here. Please take yourself out,” Millie sasses, making you turn in your chair. 

Brit doesn’t acknowledge the tiny redhead. Her dark eyes are darts, so focused on you she hardly blinks. For some reason, though, you don’t sense the animosity you did the last time she brought herself around. 

“It’s been a while,” she says to you.

Millie scoffs. “Not long enough.”

As much as you want to, you don’t feed into your friend’s comments. Defending you is appreciated, but you have a feeling that poking at the blonde will delay her departure, and Brit doesn’t need to be in your life and space any longer than you desire to be in hers. 

“What can I do for you?” you ask.

“I came here to say something.”

“We don’t have a good track record there.”

With arms crossed, Brit rolls her eyes. “Right, well…I was pissed.”

Millie mimics Brit’s behavior; arm-crossing, eye-rolling, and attitude included. “Award-winnin’ excuse, honey.”

“Can't you scram?”

“Can and will are two different things.”

Your eyes move to Millie. The fire within her is too powerful to die out against the challenge before her, and you’re positive the two could go on for hours if you let them, neither willing to back down. But you want Brit to get on with it. Surely she knows after her last failure that she’s unable to affect you or Jake and the plans you have with one another, all of which do not include her. So what else is there for her to bother you with?

“Millie, it’s ok,” you say, snapping the tense band of their stare-off.

Her face softens when she looks at you. Words don’t have to be exchanged for her to understand what you’re asking of her. She stands and walks to Brit with a pointed finger. “I’m gonna be watchin’ you through the window like a stalker the entire time.”

After stepping outside, she immediately turns to face the window, just as promised. 

You stand as well and brace yourself against the wall, keeping the barrier of the counter between you. “I’d love to get this over with, so what do you want to say?”

Brit takes her time, running her fingernail over the packets of gum in their display before she decides to take a seat in the vacant chair. With her legs crossed, her hands clasp in her lap. “I don’t know if you are aware, but Jake dropped by for a nice little visit a couple of days before he left,” she shares with you. Then she sighs as if bored. “He said some things. A lot of things. Bared his soul and all that shit. It was rather dramatic.” 

While shocked, you suppose you don’t need a million guesses to figure out why he would go to her before leaving you. He expressed his concerns weeks ago, and no matter how fiercely you tried to reassure him, you couldn’t snuff it out completely. You could always see it in his eyes—a dimmed but persistent flickering of worry. 

Brit yanks you from your thoughts. “You’re not ever going to let him go, are you,” she says. 

“No.”

“Yea…” She runs her tongue over her teeth, making that squelching sound you had hoped to never hear again. “He’s not going to let you go, either. He made that clear.”

You get that feeling again—that deep fulfillment from being with Jake. You could’ve lived your whole life and the adventures that come with it—from marriage to children to grandchildren, if that is what you and Jake choose—completely unaware of him working behind the scenes to protect and defend and love you. 

It seems silly to not have realized before, but you’re so new to this kind of love that inexperience has you approaching it in a fairly straightforward manner. You don’t hide your emotions or actions from Jake anymore. You’re sad, you cry, he comforts you. You’re mad, you yell, he calms you. You’re happy, you smile, and he smiles right with you. And you’ve done the same for him. Open and honest and, as you once agreed, hearts bare. 

You would do anything for Jake, and he for you, but you never considered that his affection extended past what you see. Not because it shouldn’t; that’s what love is, you know that. But the love of your past was hollow, very out of sight out of mind on their end; a disconnection that those men used to boost their egos by making fun of you to their friends or flirting with other women when you weren’t around. 

Unless taught differently, a person only knows what they've known. So the idea of Jake going above and beyond in that way simply never crossed your mind. 

“At first, I hated him for it,” Brit says, suspiciously even-toned. “Showing up at my door, desperately trying to appeal to god knows what while he repeatedly reminds me that he won’t be with me because he’s in love with you. I mean, can you believe the fucking audacity of a man to do that to a woman?”

You can, because you know hurt and embarrassment inside and out, and up and down. Without the context of their situation—were it any other man spouting off to any other woman—you could find it in yourself to feel sympathy as easily as you find your next breath. But Brit deserves the treatment she’s describing; not for the sake of cruelly getting even after the harassment she doled out, but because she needs to hear the truth of the matter from Jake’s lips. She’s in the wrong, what she has done is unacceptable, and perhaps most importantly: you are not the reason Jake doesn’t want to be with her. Whether she eventually accepts that truth or not is another thing entirely. 

“I’ve spent these weeks hating him more than I thought possible,” she says.

You shake your head. “Brit, I don’t understand where this is going, and to be honest, I’m–”

“You once asked me if I was tired,” she interrupts you, her tone raising to overlap yours. It succeeds in silencing you. “Well, I’m tired.” 

If you could find your voice, you don’t know what you would do with it. When she cornered you in the Hard Deck’s bathroom with a plethora of insults and threats, you shot back at her with few words and a final question. But considering her lack of self-reflection, it wasn’t a question you imagined she might one day reassess. 

Brit rises and straightens out her top. She gives you one final look. “So, now you know.”

Then she exits the store and disappears around the other side of the building where the sidewalk meets the street. 

“What the actual fuck was that about?” Millie asks, returning to your side.

You’re still staring at the spot where she vanished. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” you start, then swallow, “But I think she’s done with us.”

—

You love all of the things that still smell like Jake. The sheets, the pillow, the interior of his truck, the kitchen because that’s the first place he’d go after putting cologne on in the morning. He lingers everywhere, and when you close your eyes, you can trick yourself into believing he’s right beside you. But after a while of sitting around the scent with your eyes closed, the illusion dissipates. If Jake was actually near you, only so much time would pass before he’d begin touching and kissing and whispering sweet things in your ear. 

“You know I can’t help myself,” he’d say. And without him here, you can’t convince the scene to play out.

It’s like a bad dream that doesn’t lose its power over you even after you wake. It’s still in your brain, in the race of your heart, in the heavy gasps from your lungs. Dreams you often have that, even when sweet and beautiful, aren’t. If they’re not full of horrible images that leave you shaking in bed, they’re reminders of good times with Jake, and it’s the good times that ache the most when they’re over.

Tonight, though, it’s not the dreams that shoot you awake. It’s the ring of your phone from an unknown number. 

When Jake first left, every unknown number that popped up on your screen jolted an electric shock through your body. But after so many telemarketers and automated calls from the apartment building updating you on temporary changes to office hours, you stopped expecting anything else. 

Grabbing your phone, you slam the tip of your finger onto the little green circle and lift it to your ear. “Seriously, calling in the middle of the night is so messed up! I told you to take me off your list!”

“What list?”

Your eyes widen, and every scrap of half-asleep grumpiness falls away at the sound of his voice. “J-Jake?”

“Hey, beautiful…”

He sounds as tired as you are, but you can practically feel the smile on his face. You’re sure it’s a weak smile, all he can muster due to the exhaustion, but it’s there and it’s for you. 

Your vision blurs and you blink and fat droplets soak into his comforter. You rub your thumb over the damp circles. “I should slap you,” you say, your nose already becoming stuffy from your tears. 

“Oh, you should do much worse than that,” he replies. You lightly chuckle, so he lightly chuckles, then silence holds until he sighs. “I’m so sorry. I miss you so damn much.”

“So much you didn’t want to call before now? It's been a long time, Jake.”

“I did want to call,” he tells you. “And I could have—I should have—but I just…I freaked out a bit.”

“Why?”

Jake sighs again, and he must’ve pulled the phone away from his face because there’s a muttering so faint you can barely hear it. But then loudly and clearly, he says, “Because I fucked up, beautiful, and I’m embarrassed. You deserved better.”

Your mouth goes dry. 

Fucked up. Fucked. Up. 

Before you can stop yourself, you catch a glimpse of what the next few moments could turn your life into. 

Fucked up. Slept with someone. Sorry. Thought I loved you. Not your fault. You can stay at the apartment until I get back. 

Pain, and heartbreak, and tears fatter than the ones you’re currently shedding. Lost trust that will never be found for anyone else. No more confidence. No more self-love. No more vulnerability. 

Twelfth new place. 

But then he says, “That’s not how I should have told you I love you.”

One sentence. A snap of the fingers and every invading thought is shoved out of your head. You breathe. Shake your head. Swipe your fingers across your cheek to wipe away the first tear brought on by what you thought was about to break your heart. 

“It’s not how I wanted to do it,” he continues. “I was going to tell you so many times in the week before I left, but I didn’t know how you were going to react. Then I thought I’d say it at the dock, but Rooster was next to me and Millie was next to you, and no way in hell was I going to have them there the first time I said that to you.

“Before I knew it, we were on the ship and it hit me that I ran out of chances. But I couldn’t go without you knowing, so I didn’t think, I just did it,” he says. “I didn’t realize how fucking lame it was until the next day. I mean, Rooster told Millie on a damn ferris wheel, and Bob…” There's a pause. “Actually, I shouldn't tell you what Bob did for his girl; it shames us all.”

Finally, he takes a breath. “Anyway, after we were gone, whenever I wanted to call you I froze up because I had no idea what you would say and how you would feel. The thought of you being disappointed with me or with something I did–”

“Jake–”

“Especially something like this—it makes me–”

“Jake, I don't care that you told me over the phone,” you manage to slip in between his words. 

“Y-You don’t?”

“No, of course not,” you snicker, running the back of your hand under your nose to clear away any snot. “What I care about is that you didn't let me respond,” you tell him. “I care that the only way I've known you're safe has been through Millie.”

This time, Jake’s sigh sounds different; one more of relief than anything. Minutes of talking has anxiety lifting off of both of your shoulders by the pounds. Jake is okay, Jake is safe, Jake still loves you. You’re okay, you’re safe, you’re not so disappointed in him that you didn’t hang up the second you heard his voice. 

“Beautiful, if I could kick myself I would.”

“I’m sure you could ask one of the others to do it.”

“Anyone in particular you’d prefer to do the honors?”

You hum. “Javy never skips leg day. I’m sure he’s got a strong swing.”

Jake laughs loud enough for you to jerk your ear away from the speaker. “I’ll surprise him with the good news in the morning,” he says.

There’s a handful of things you could say in response. Cute things. Witty things. Sassy things, like requesting pictures of said kick in the ass as proof. But you don’t say those things. While you’d love to continue on the lighter path of conversation, you have more questions.

“Why didn’t you let me respond?” you ask. 

It’s amazing that you can’t see him yet you can feel his shift in attitude. As if in slow motion, you picture each phase of the bright smile disintegrating off his face.

Jake clears his throat. “You want the selfish or the less selfish reason first?”

“In that order is fine.”

“Ok. Selfishly, I didn’t want to hear you say you don’t love me,” he says. “But that wasn’t my first thought. My first thought was that I just needed you to know. I didn’t care if you loved me too, I cared that you knew you were loved. 

“It was after it was out of my mouth that I realized you might feel pressured to give me a response, which I also didn’t want for you. Then the selfish part came into play because what if you responded with anything other than that you love me too? Would it have made me stop loving you? No. But it would’ve hurt…badly.”

“You honestly think that I don’t?”

“I don’t know, beautiful.”

You can see his weak smile again, and you can picture how this conversation would go if he were in front of you rather than a thousand miles away. With that smile, he’d hold your hand and brush your hair behind your ear. He’d smooth your tears back into your cheeks with his thumb because he’d hate that they’re there before he pulls you into him to kiss you. 

“You’ve been through so much,” he says. “I don’t expect you to be in love with me, but that doesn’t mean it wouldn't hurt to hear you confirm it.”

You cry a little harder for the tears that shouldn’t be shedding; for the uncertainty he’s been feeling; for the questions you’ve been asking yourself over the last couple of months. All unnecessary. All of which could’ve been solved had he given you a chance to respond or called you at his first opportunity. 

You empathize with why he didn’t. Jake may be a man who doesn’t throw the ‘love’ word around often, but you’re a woman who has refused to throw it out at all. You protect yourself that way. You maintain some semblance of power by never speaking it aloud to someone who would not reciprocate. You understand what it means to tell someone you love them when you’ve lost those you love, and you’ve refused to do it for that purpose. It’s a risk of facing more loss.

But it’s a risk Jake took that would have instantly proved worth it. You only wish he could have known that at the time.

“Jake, I–”

“Please don’t,” he stops you. “I don’t want you to say anything until I get back. Either way, I mean. If you feel how I do, or, you know…if you don’t. I’d rather not know until I’m with you again.”

“You would rather wait months to know how I feel?”

“Well, that’s the thing, beautiful,” he says. “We might be coming home sooner than expected.”

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