It's been a year since I wrote anything for Redemption. We've seen Ransom's struggles but this is probably the most honest look at the Reader's feelings thus far.
Definitely teared up writing some pieces so you may want to get some tissues! Labrinth's "I'm Tired" was inspiration for this chapter.
Redemption Series Masterlist
Word Count: 3K
Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Heavy angst, language, emotional breakdown, mentions of past cheating, fainting, mentions of past drug use.
Summary | Ransom Drysdale thought you made a clean break from him after your failed marriage. After a run in at a coffee shop, it appears that it wasn’t as easy as he thought.
There’s a handful of times Ransom has been a praying man.
Once to get clean, staring at his reflection in the mirror after a particularly hard night, nostrils bright red and dark circles underneath his eyes, his mouth feeling like it was packed with cotton. He’d lost count of how many days since he had gone on a binge, empty liquor bottles strewn across the hotel bathroom floor. He’d prayed hard that morning, gripping the sink, fighting to remember what to say to whatever higher power would listen.
Another time to bring you back home, his fingers pressing against the fabric of his pants when he was sitting in the parking lot of your job. The vivid scene of your chest rising and falling, the soft whimper of your distress when he’d tried to calm you down from another letdown, another egregious sin that he had committed against you. You could smell the unnamed woman on him, lamenting that you would never measure up to whatever he was chasing, even as he lied to you and told you that you were enough. He’d prayed hard for the guidance for you to come home, to be enough to help him fight his demons.
A feverish prayer of gratitude when he finally woke from what seemed like years of sleep, only to find out he was under tubes, ventilators and the watchful eye of a team of doctors who were watching his every move.
Making a deal with whoever would listen when he first saw the twins. He didn’t pray for sleep that night after he saw them, replaying Leah’s wide-eyed wonder at the man who stood behind her and his son who had a touch of cynicism about him, even at his young age. He’d prayed that his children wouldn’t grow up like him, bored of a life that he didn’t take advantage of, turning to the vices that made him the shell of who he had become before he had come into their lives.
His solace isn’t a church.
Not now, anyway, not with the shadows that creep into his mind that could lead him to think the worst of himself and the pathway to feeling better is one that could find him on the precipice of a relapse.
His place of refuge is a coffee shop, his pastor a man a burly man with a beard and kind eyes.
“California isn’t a short trip,” Ari quips, pouting a dash of creamer into his coffee mug. “I assume it was a mutual decision?”
“Sure,” Ransom answers, watching the condensation on his glass of water form into droplets that slide down and onto the coaster. “ I didn’t have much of an excuse to say no, you can’t let my children go across the country to Disneyland.”
“It’s more than that.”
Ransom shrugs, trying to ignore the needling feeling that he should admit how he feels, especially to his sponsor.
“Go on.”
Ransom hates the way Ari can make a conversation seem so simple.
“Makes it real, I guess. She and Steve are getting pretty serious.”
“Sounds like.”
“But that didn’t stop her from letting me come over the night prior.”
“Ransom,” Ari sighs. “In what context are we talking about?”
“There was a lot of emotion.”
“I’m sure there was,” Ari agrees. “But that’s not what I asked. Did you sleep together?”
“No,” Ransom rushes out, his face hot with embarrassment. “But does that matter?”
“It does when you want me to think that you had some emotional, physical aspect to you going over to her apartment. It means you’re still not looking at the truth. I appreciate the candid conversation but let’s be honest here, you could have told her no, that the agreement is that the kids stay local. You didn’t do that. Why?”
“If I said no,” Ransom begins, twisting around his signet ring. “She would have asked why and I didn’t have an answer. I can’t tell her that I’m jealous that she’s seeing another man that isn’t me. We’ve had some nice moments. Doesn’t feel like I should fuck that up by telling her she can’t live her life.”
Ari nods in agreement, Ransom blowing out a hard breath.
“Happy?”
“No,” Ari denies. “Are you?”
“I feel like shit. More than anything, I want to call her, I want to talk to the kids, but I don’t know if they landed and -”
“You know they landed. I saw the flight tracker on your phone. Be honest with me, Ransom. This is a safe space, I’m not here to judge. Unless of course, you want to continue blowing smoke up my ass.”
“I fucked up,” Ransom says quietly, reaching for his coffee cup. “That’s all I can say. Sometimes, I’ll dream about her, and the kids and it feels so goddamn real and then I wake up and it’s…”
He exhales a shaky breath.
“If I have to do this every day for the rest of my life, then I will because it means I still see another day and I get a chance to be around my kids. But I’d be lying if I said waking up from that dream doesn’t fucking hurt every time,” he finishes, trying to will away the tears that well up in his eyes.
“You’re going to get through this. I don’t know where the cards lie for you and her, Ransom, I can’t see the future. But what I do see, is someone who is taking his sobriety seriously and is a loving father to his kids. That part isn’t a dream. That’s real.”
“Yeah.”
Ari leans forward, placing his hand over Ransom’s. It shouldn’t matter but Ransom lowers his head, holding back the tears.
“It’s okay not to be okay, Ransom. We’re our worst enemies sometimes. Be a friend to yourself for once. You deserve that.”
-
Leah and Carter sleep side by side, the other bed untouched while you take them in. The hotel suite is massive, almost the same size as your apartment. It had been too quiet after a while, hearing them play before their voices had faded out.
When they babies, you used to have to place them side by side, each one reaching out for the other until they made contact. Usually it was arm and arm, a confirmation that the other was present, both waking up when you moved them to a more comfortable position. While too young to know what jetlag is, you know their signs of their exhaustion well, covering them up with a blanket after kissing their foreheads.
The sun is a hazy pink and purple from the balcony, the breeze rushing against your skin as you close your eyes. Miles away and you’re still yearning for something, nameless and indescribable, even if you’re in a Southern California paradise.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Steve says behind you, stepping outside.
“It is,” you agree. “The view is pretty.”
“I meant you, but I’ll agree to that,” Steve says, wrapping his arms around you, your back against his chest. “Are you happy you came?”
“Yes,” you answer quickly, reaching up to bring him closer. “I’m still trying to process that I’m away from… everything.”
“Doesn’t happen often, I know,” Steve says, kissing your cheek. “But you and the kids deserve a break. It’s been a lot of learnings, a lot of big emotions for the kids.”
Me too, you think.
“Tomorrow I’ll be gone for the majority of the day, but you and the kids are more than welcome to explore, and I can have a car take you wherever you want to go. I get about an hour for lunch if you want to come down and hear all about the advancements in pediatric medicine.”
“Lunch sounds nice.”
“Really?” Steve sounds happily surprised, your face turning toward his. “Then, it’s a date.”
“Thank you for this,” you reply, brushing a stand of his hair off his forehead. “We needed this.”
“We all did,” Steve agrees, leaning forward when he kisses you gently, your fingers going to the collar of his shirt as you pull him closer.
-
An unexpected cold snap takes hold in Anaheim, the temperature dropping at least fifteen degrees that catches you off guard, Carter slightly shivering when he runs back inside, declaring that is too cold.
The layers of clothing work well to keep them comfortable, both of their hands in yours while they tell you what they plan to do when they finally reach their coveted destination of the theme parks that they’ve been watching non-stop. If you follow their plans, you won’t have a single moment to sit down or eat but you listen carefully, asking them questions that they have answers for, delighted that you agree with their choices.
The convention center is massive, following signs that point in the direction of where they are supposed to go. The twins wave and say hello to everyone they meet, asking for a treat when they see a doctor who looks like their former pediatrician, who pats her pockets before apologizing and waving goodbye to them.
In the crowd of people, Carter and Leah spy Steve before you go, letting go of your hands and running full speed, despite your pleas for them to slow down.
You catch up to them right when they are lifted into Steve’s arms, giggling when you see the other person standing next to him, smiling at the twins. She’s immaculately put together, right down to the designer bag that is slung over her shoulder, her hair freshly done and makeup applied flawlessly.
“Hi,” Steve says, giving you a quick kiss before motioning to the person next to him. “You’re right on time. Let me introduce you to Doctor Sharon Carter, she and I used to be colleagues back when I worked in Brooklyn. Sharon, this is my -”
“Nice to meet you,” Sharon greets you, extending her hand to yours as you shake it. “I had no idea that Steve had a whole family.”
“Oh, I -” you try to interrupt.
“This is Leah and Carter,” Steve says, the twins squirming out of his arms as they slide back down to the ground.
“Yours?” Sharon asks.
“Maybe one day,” Steve answers.
“Interesting. Cute kids you have. Have a good lunch,” Sharon says, turning to Steve. “Don’t forget where we’re sitting. Then there’s happy hour at the end of all the madness.”
“Sure,” Steve replies, taking your hand, not seeing when you look back at Sharon, the twins grabbing your hand and Steve’s.
“See you there!”
-
Steve’s cell buzzes on the table, his expression apologetic when he finally answers a text.
“Sharon?” you ask, glancing at the twins coloring outside of the lines, Carter holding onto a chicken tender while he selects another crayon.
“Yeah,” Steve says, his brow furrowing when he dials her number. “I’ll be right back.”
Getting up from his chair, you can hear his voice lower.
“I’m at lunch, what’s going on?” he asks, maneuvering around the tables, his voice fading amid the sounds of utensils against plates and loud chatter.
Trying to ignore the pit that is spreading in your belly, you focus on the twins, Leah chewing on a French fry while Carter dips his chicken into the big cup of ranch. You want to eat, your stomach grumbling as you had skipped breakfast to make sure that the twins were fed and now you’re paying for it, feeling lightheaded for a moment before shaking the feeling away.
The insecurity sneaks in without warning. The perfect hair Sharon has that you know you will never achieve, let alone sitting that long at a salon without any interruption, to the expensive tailored outfit that you know you would never fit into after childbirth renders you speechless at how quickly the comparisons have come, a flashback to when you found out Ransom had been in the company of one of your bridesmaids, blond and coiffed like Sharon.
But she wasn’t Sharon and Sharon isn’t her, the mantra repeating over and over in your mind.
She isn’t going to sleep with Steve. She isn’t going to lie right to your face when you confront her like your former friend did.
But you don't know that for sure, even if you trust Steve.
Questions float up to the surface of your thoughts. Why didn’t Sharon know about you? Was she supposed to?
None of the feelings that begin to rise are rational, trying to keep yourself calm when Leah and Carter begin to argue over their favorite crayon, their voices getting louder before you look down at the mess of food and broken crayons.
“What happened?” Steve interrupting your thoughts, leaning down between the twins, reaching for a napkin to clean up the spilled water.
“I… I don’t know,” you answer, getting up from your chair, scooping up the broken crayons into a napkin, moving quickly to tidy up the space.
“Is everything okay?” he asks you, the twins back to normal, as if they didn’t have a category three argument.
“It’s fine,” you assure him, a waitress coming by with two sets of crayons to assuage any arguments. “Just a little blow up.”
“Not them,” he says quietly, sitting back down next to you. “Are you okay?”
His phone buzzes once more, your nerves getting to you. He makes no motion to answer it, even as you can hear it in his suit pocket.
“Do you want to answer that?”
“No,” Steve tells you. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine,” you reply, suddenly irritated that he won’t answer it. “If it’s Sharon, you can just answer it.”
“It is,” Steve agrees. “But it can wait.”
“No, go ahead and answer it,” you answer, trying to calm yourself down. “It keeps going off so just… answer it.”
“Did I miss something?”
“You didn’t get any texts from her until today and now…” you trail off, seeing Steve’s confused expression as you fight back tears. “Forget it. Leah? Carter? There’s a playground a little bit from here and they have swings. Do you want to go?”
The twins perk up, the crayons rolling around the table as Steve blinks in confusion.
“You’re leaving?”
“I’m going to take them to the park.”
“We’re eating lunch. I don’t understand,” Steve tries, watching you get up. “Can you just tell me what happened?”
“She’s asking me about the surprise symposium we’re supposed to be doing,” Steve informs you, pulling out his phone. “I can show you the texts.”
“No, you don’t have to,” you reply softly, digging through your purse, tears welling in your eyes.
That’s how it started, you recall bitterly, placing money on the table. The friendly texts, the questions that Ransom would answer. You always were offered those to read and pour over, even when you declined.
It was the others that you weren’t allowed to see.
“We will talk about this when you’ve processed things and I’m in a better headspace,” Steve says, leaning toward you so that only you can hear. “I’ll see you later.”
The kids wave goodbye, Leah carefully looking up at you as she pouts.
“Mommy, don’t cry,” Leah pleads, your head lowering to see her sweet little face. “What did we do?”
“Nothing, sweetheart. You did nothing wrong. Mommy just needs some fresh air, I promise. It’s so warm,” you lie, fanning yourself as Carter follows suit near your face. “I’ll be fine once we get outside.”
“Go faster!” Carter chimes in, Leah pulling you toward the door. “Bye Steve!”
-
“You and Sharon did a fantastic job with such short notice,” Sharon’s husband praises. “I mean it, I just was blown away at how you can take such a hard subject and turn it into a masterclass.”
“Only a little frustrating,” Sharon admits, giving Steve a slight jab on his arm with her elbow. “Sorry you had to deal with all my texts with my edits. The minute Doctor Erskine asked where you went, I knew it was something big. I’m so sorry I panicked.”
“It’s fine,” Steve assures her. “We figured it out and with any luck, Doctor Erskine will realize he doesn’t want me up there talking for an hour and a half straight.”
“Where’s your,” Sharon pauses, sheepishly looking at him. “Girlfriend? Wife?”
“She’s at the hotel with the kids.”
“Scratch that happy hour then, I thought you brought her. Go be with them. You know how these happy hours are. All the booze and none of the networking. Whatever they are to you, those kids are adorable. You’re lucky to have all of them, Steve.”
“Thanks, Sharon. I definitely am.”
Giving her and her husband a nod, he slips out the restaurant, looking down at his phone for any sign of a missed call from you, sighing when he realizes there is none.
-
The twins are in their separate beds, freshly bathed and in their favorite pajamas, unaware of the tears that stream down your face.
The cuffs of your sweatshirt are wrinkled from the amount of pulling and twisting through your fingers, guilt ridden stimuli taking over. Your throat aches with the need to shout, to scream your frustrations out to the night. The pent up rage, both at yourself and the past looks you in the face when you finally turn on the light, the mirror in the bathroom a reflection of someone you don’t recognize.
Gripping the sides of the sink and lowering your head, you begin to pray, lips moving so fast that you can’t the words out fast enough. Your tears a sacrament that drop into the sink when you bare your teeth at your transgressions, wishing that whatever higher power would give you a chance at peace. To lighten the burden you’ve carried and to give yourself grace.
Embarrassment takes hold, your body shuddering at the thought of how you acted, the way Leah’s gaze was solely on you and your tears. You don’t know how many times she’s seen you cry, and the thought only makes you pray harder, to hide your emotions from your beloved children so that they will never know the fight you continue to endure.
Exhaustion finally wins out, your knees buckling when you siip down onto the floor, eyes closing in defeat.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Heavy angst, language, emotional breakdown, mentions of past drug use.
Summary | Ransom Drysdale thought you made a clean break from him after your failed marriage. After a run in at a coffee shop, it appears that it wasn’t as easy as he thought.
Leah cranes her neck to look over at her brother’s painting, hard at work as his tongue pokes out of the side of his mouth in concentration, her eyes diverting back to her project while Steve paces back and forth, minding the way Leah bolts from the living room to her bedroom, making a beeline without much regard to the near collision had Steve not seen her.
“A few changes,” Steve continues, watching you inside Carter’s room, placing his folded shirts into his overnight bag. “Three extra tickets. I don’t mind if I have to be bumped from the flight. Together is preferred but as long as the additional three sit together. That’s priority, please.”
Leah narrowly avoids another impact, Steve taking a step back when she runs back to her project, a modeling clay box in her hands before Steve hears the rip of the cardboard, his attention toward the twins for a moment while they work diligently on their gifts for Ransom. Father’s Day has taken on a new meaning, Carter explaining to Steve when he stepped through the door that it was a ‘big deal’. Never one to argue with a determined toddler, Steve simply listened and had helped them settle into the living room to finish their projects.
“First class? Perfect, I’ll take it,” Steve murmurs, giving you a wink while he peeks back in over the twins, ending the call.
It’s quiet, nearly perfect harmony, save for Leah’s little comment on the colors of the picture Carter is working on.
He ignores her, simply dipping his brush into the plastic cup of water, flicking it at her as she screeches in indignation.
“Steve! He wetted my shirt!” Leah wails, her little voice carrying as Steve holds his hand over his phone.
You swoop in without a word, giving Carter a stare and then one to Leah.
“Be nice to each other,” you remind them, Leah looking at her shirt. “It’s just water, Leah. Carter, you know you aren’t supposed to do that. Leah, we say nice things or…”
“Nothing else,” Leah replies glumly, tearing up the plastic to grab a piece of the clay.
A careful eye from you means Steve now turns to make sure she doesn’t accidentally sneak a piece in her mouth while you head back into the room.
He knows you’re nervous.
You haven’t told Ransom that the twins will be gone for a week and he can tell, especially now as the hours dwindle down, that you’re still trying to figure out how to explain it to him. He heard you practicing in Leah’s room, zipping up her overnight bag while you mumbled to yourself that this was ‘good for the twins and for everyone involved’ before you ended up focusing on something else, eyebrows still furrowed while you dumped out a packet of stale goldfish crackers from a plastic baggie.
This trip is an emotional investment.
Steve knows that. He can see if by how you’ve marked off the calendar in your planner, scheduling everything before and after the trip. He’s even managed to snag refundable tickets, just in case that things don’t go well and you don’t have to worry about the financial burden you’ve sworn up and down you have already put him in.
“Almost ready?” Steve asks you, your head snapping up at attention.
“Yeah,” you reply, looking at the carefully packed bags. “I think so.”
-
Harlan envelops the twins into a hug, Ransom heading down the stairs, both of them unaware that he’s on the last step before Leah peeks her head up, shouting in glee. It feels like you should be here, staying here longer than you know you will be, like a picture-perfect family.
The twins insisted on a large amount of tissue paper stuffed inside the bags that they take from your hands, circling around Ransom until he herds them toward the den. You don’t follow, Harland standing up, giving you a long look.
“I know that face,” he hints, giving you a slight nudge.
“I need to talk to him about something.”
“Is it Linda? She’s still not meddling where she doesn’t belong, is she?”
That’s a whole other story, something that you had also factored into this conversation with Ransom.
“I was thinking of taking the twins on a trip,” you begin, your voice trailing off.
With another man, who isn’t their father, you think to yourself, Harlan nodding.
“Ah, but I suppose it’s much more complicated than it’s presented. Have they eaten lunch yet? I think Fran was wanting to make them something to eat.”
“Not yet.”
Harlan brightens, poking his head into the den to see the twins on Ransom’s lap, both of them talking excitedly about their gifts. Over their heads, your eyes connect, Harlan clearing his throat.
“I’ll let her know,” he says, giving you a slight push toward the den. “Better get a head start.”
Leah and Carter both watch Ransom examine their gifts, his eyes slightly welling up as Leah touches his face.
“No cry, Daddy,” she says, pushing her little face against his. “It’s yours, not Carter’s.”
“Mine’s is yours too, Daddy. Not Leah’s,” chimes Carter.
“I love them both, thank you,” Ransom says after a moment, both the twins cuddling him close before they feel your presence.
“Are you hungry?” That’s all you can ask at the moment, the twins nodding excitedly.
“Starving!” Leah says dramatically, your head shaking at her eyes rolling back in her head as she clutches her belly.
“I think Fran wanted to make you some-”
The sound of their shoes squeaking on the hardwood floor is all that you can hear, leaving you and Ransom alone while he places his gifts back into the bags.
“Happy Father’s Day,” you start, unsure of where to begin.
“Thanks, it’s my first one… that I’ve known about.” There’s no malice to it, the way he says it with a slight smile.
There doesn’t need to be when you can feel the slight hurt in his statement.
“I wanted to… run something past you.” It shouldn’t be this hard to get the words out. If this was a year ago, you’d have done this without any regret. “I want to take the twins on a trip.”
“A trip,” Ransom repeats. “I’m assuming we aren’t talking in and around Boston.”
“Not exactly. It’s for a few days. A week.”
“A few days or a week?” Ransom questions, his smile fading.
“A week.”
“Okay.”
You’re aware that he’s processing, his elbows on his knees while he looks at you.
“I want to take them to California and -”
“California?”
“Yes. California. They’ve never been to Disneyland or any other state and I know that it seems like a lot but it’s not a full week. It’s Monday through Friday and we’ll be back by the evening on Friday so you’ll still get your weekend.”
“Did you run this past Andy?”
You sigh, knowing the reason he’s asked.
“I did. He said I needed to… get your approval. The terms of the agreement are that both of us have to agree to it.”
Ransom nods, looking down at the bags. You can tell he wants to say something, the tension between you both nearly suffocating.
“California is where Steve’s conference is, right? I assume he’ll be with you.”
“You can still say no.”
He can say no and you’ll go back and relay the information. Unpack the luggage that you’ve already started on and continue to live your life. It’s more than that, of course. You’ll be giving up a piece of your old self, the one who took chances. It’ll be a blowback to throwing caution to the wind but you’ll do it for peace.
For the twins.
For Ransom.
“I didn’t say I was going to say no. I’m surprised, is all. Didn’t think it was getting that serious.”
“It’s a chance to see if it is,” you admit, shocked at your own words. “But it’s also to have the twins go somewhere that isn’t New England.”
“And if I said no?”
“I’d respect the choice.”
Ransom nods, standing up and moving past you.
“I need some time to think about it,” Ransom answers after he pauses to look out the window. “Not the answer you probably wanted and I’m not trying to string you along. I just… need to think about it.”
“I understand.”
“When’s the trip?”
“A week from now.”
He scoffs, shaking his head.
“Good of you to wait until now to tell me.”
“I’ve been trying to think of a way to ask you. This isn’t easy, I’m trying to balance so many things and you have no idea -”
“You’re right, I have no idea. No idea how I’ve fought like hell to keep my mother off our backs and her lawyers. To fire my own and hire another so that they play nice with each other. I know I don’t deserve transparency but for the sake of our kids, I think I’m owed that at least,” Ransom mutters, raking a hand through his hair while he blows out a breath. “A week isn’t going to be that big of a deal. I know that. It just feels like it. Thousands of miles away and I’m still trying to be a good father to them and I wonder if…”
“He’s not replacing you,” you answer, standing behind him.
You’re met with silence, Ransom’s head slightly bowing before you hear a sniffle.
“I’ll give you an answer by the end of the week,” Ransom replies, moving past you while you reach out to touch him, your hand lowering at the sound of Leah bellowing for her father.
-
Staring up at the ceiling, Ransom hears your laughter on the TV. He can’t bring himself to look at it again, the way your eyes are so full of hope and love.
Wedding video replay #4.
Dr. Gray has hailed it as progress, even when he can’t form a single word when she asks him about the details. He remembers everything, down to the way you changed shoes from the wedding to the reception, running up behind him to surprise him before the wedding pictures began.
He remembers his vows, saying them in unison with a former version of himself who never deserved you in the first place. It feels also taboo to see himself in the video, camera focused on his eyes, pupils full blown.
To the unknowing, it’s love.
To Ransom, it’s the blow he’d consumed on the coffee table before he had put on his tuxedo, finishing right before his father had knocked on the door. Just enough to keep him above surface so that he didn’t slip into the depths of his despair.
“Ransom, that was your last chance to run,” Georgie says with a shit eating grin. “Now you’re one of them.”
Deep down, he wanted to be one of them.
The husband that his father never was, the sort who would come home to you and never even think about entertaining the thought of being in someone’s bed that wasn’t yours. There were dreams back then, some within reach and others behind his eyes that hung out on the horizon of his reality. He could also feel the domesticity of coming home to you and only you.
Because he’d done it before, countless times before he was pulled back into the abyss of drugs and selfishness.
He’d do it now without hesitation, even as he thinks of the two precious gifts you’d given him that are sleeping across the hallway. Fate had been cruel that morning he’d seen the bright eyes of two children who were mesmerized by him. It was much more than a child’s glance at a stranger. It was putting a puzzle piece together one by one, cautious because of what he knows now.
You’d never shied away from teaching them who he was, even when you cut every piece of him out of your life.
Or so you tried.
He lifts his head up just to see the ending, the way he kisses you as if the world was going to end. Perhaps in that version of him, he assumed it was going to. It was all a matter of time. Running from a villain that was created out of his own shortcomings and failures.
He doesn’t realize that the tears are dripping down his cheeks until he grabs his car keys, splashing against the metal before he wipes his face.
-
Sitting cross legged on the couch, you’re wide awake, looking out at the city from the darkness of your apartment. Time seems to pause, save for the blinking of the airplane lights from above. Your thumb swipes up to look at the long text you’ve drafted to Ransom. There’s an apology but also an explanation, one that you feel you probably don’t need to give but it’s worth telling him why you’ve waited for so long.
Why it’s so complicated to make a move when for others it would not have been a second thought.
Closing your eyes, you’re unsure if you’re hearing things but the sound is faint again, giving you pause.
The knock that comes is one that is familiar. Four in quick succession, enough for you to know who it is.
You don’t expect the figure standing in front of your door when you open it, his eyes still filled with tears that immediately bring on your own.
Unspoken, you let him come into the apartment, the window blinds pulled back so that he can see the view.
His sigh of relief catches your attention, enough for you to see him stand at the window, resuming your place on the couch.
“I didn’t know where to go,” he explains, still not facing you. “I can’t go back to the alternative.”
Your hand touches the space next to you, waiting for him to accept your silent invitation.
When he does, it’s still quiet, his hands moving up and over his knees, a nervous habit that you had caught onto when you first started dating.
“I meant it,” he says after a moment. “When I made that vow that I’d always make you coffee. You laughed and said I’d never remember how you like it. I still remember how, I swear.”
Sucking in a breath at his words, you blink back tears at the confirmation that he watched the video. Your throat forms a lump, emotions rushing to the surface so quickly that you can’t breathe. Circling your arm in his, he stops, sucking in a breath while your head settles on his shoulder, a tear rolling down your cheek and onto his sweater.
“I meant it,” he says after a moment. “When I made that vow that I’d always make you coffee. You laughed and said I’d never remember how you like it. I still remember how, I swear.”
This is so beautiful and human.. when you rush to be with someone because there’s so much you need to say and then what comes out is so unexpected 😭
Notes: I’m bringing this back after some thought. I’ve added some new scenes through the first three chapters so please be aware of the warnings if you choose to read.
Normally, I don’t ask for reblogs/comments but if you like it, I’d love to hear what you think.
Series Masterlist
Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Mentions of past infidelity, mentions of past pregnancy, language, mentions of divorce, heavy angst.
Summary | Ransom Drysdale thought you made a clean break from him after your failed marriage. After a run in at a coffee shop, it appears that it wasn’t as easy as he thought.
“Just get out,” Ransom seethes, his voice gaining volume as the woman in front of him finally slips on her dress.
“I’m going,” she cuts back, her lip trembling at the sharp tone. “Didn’t think you’d kick me out right after you got your rocks off.”
“I said get out!”
The brunette lugs her purse over her shoulder, giving him the middle finger as his eyes narrow in response, his jaw clenching. At his stare, she flees the room, the door slamming while he cards a hand through his hair, blowing out a hard breath. No matter who they are, they will never be the one he needed.
Shaky fingers open the nightstand drawer, his wedding ring still nestled in the box, three years gone since he’s worn it, placed upon the stack of the divorce papers that he hasn’t looked at since it was finalized. The condoms are on the left, easy access for him and no one else to see.
It would have been fine had she not asked questions.
He was still basking in the afterglow of his orgasm, mind everywhere else but on the one who used to warm his bed.
Pulling himself out of bed, he slams the nightstand drawer closed, the force of it swaying back and forth while his eyes follow the rhythm for a moment. There’s zero trace of you and yet he still remembers your clothes mingling with his own, shoes neatly stacked in the massive closet that you still kept in boxes. He had to hand it to you. You’d caught him off guard when he came home late, intent on seeing you asleep when everything you owned had disappeared.
He’d been silent when he moved through every room, checking every closet and drawer for any sign that you would return. You’d taken everything that belonged to you, leaving no note for your disappearance. But Ransom knew that you didn’t have to.
His indiscretions – ones that you knew about and didn’t – always came to light. You often asked why he married you, why he pretended to commit when he was willing to head across town and spend his nights with other women that weren’t you. Eventually, the tears dried up, silence falling between you both while he continued on, not even making excuses when he would leave for the night.
The light flicks on, flooding the bathroom with harsh white light as he turns on the shower. He’d been cruel when you told him you one day you would leave him, all empty threats he’d heard before. You accused him of not loving you, packing up your things in a hurry when you could see the marks on his neck.
Ok but think abt phone sex with javi (I mean it IS cannon that if you call him at work saying you want his cock in you, he'll run out of the office like it's on fire to go fuck)
dial tone (javier peña x reader)
words: 1.3k
rating: mature/explicit (18+)
summary: you decide to have some fun with javi (and murphy) after feeling a little bored while he’s at work.
a/n: its kinda short kinda hot might blueball you too i’m sorry
(gif source: @december-nimbus)
“Hey, Murph, is Javi there?”
Tucking the bulky landline receiver between his cheek and his shoulder, Murphy lifted his gaze from the growing molehill of paperwork that had slowly begun to consume the pair of crudely shoved together desks.
theres bikes around the city you can rent but you have to use an app that needs your drivers license. theres buses that drive right to your destination, but if you dont have change you need the app. you can wash your car here if you sign into the app. you can go to the bathroom here you just have to unlock it with the app that needs your location on. you can order at this restaurant if you scan the code and download the app. im losing my freaking mind
I got my phone and wallet stolen once and the amount of things I couldn’t fucking do without The App was bonkers. I couldn’t order an Uber or the bus home because no phone or wallet, so I had to walk home based on directions written on a sticky note. I couldn’t do my laundry even though I had change in my apartment because my building’s laundry machines required The App. I couldn’t log into my school email because my school’s email requires two factor authentication and will ONLY take a phone number, not another email address. I had a hard as fuck time getting new cards set up with my bank because in order to do that I needed to log into The App. I couldn’t get any packages that were delivered to me because my building’s locker system was app based. So on and so forth.
We should not have this fucking single point of failure like this.
baratheonpilled
prguitarman
blakekathryn
kaledo-art
