Itās a simple enough call, if youāre being honest.Ā
And you are- being honest, that is.Ā
Honesty is why youāre ringing Jamie up right now with your cycle tracker pulled up on your computer screen. Itās a bit nerve-wracking, sure, but thatās just because heās the first and only person youāre going to tell.Ā
Well, maybe not the only person. Youāre going to have to tell Noah because thereās no way youāre doing this next part alone, and she always knows what to do when you donāt.Ā
But Jamie deserves to know first. So you press the call button and wait for him to pick up.Ā
Youāre in your bedroom right now. Jamieās probably in his and he should be asleep but instead heās awake and waiting for you.
He picks up at the first ring.
āWhatās wrong?ā he asks right away, and the knot in your chest begins to loosen.
āNothing,ā you reply automatically. āI mean- not nothing. Itās not wrong, I just- how are you?ā
You hear him laugh through the phone. āIām good, babe. Youāre not though, so whatās up?ā
You look at the cycle tracker again. Two and a half months- no. Closer to three.Ā
You take a breath. āRemember Christmas?ā
Jamie swallows another laugh. Of course he does.Ā
āRight. Stupid question,ā you say. āI think- youāre the only person Iām telling, but- I might be pregnant.ā
The words vomit from your mouth and you immediately want to take them back. You want to take them back even more when your phone lights up with Jamieās request to FaceTime.
You press accept before you have a chance to chicken out and Jamieās face fills your screen.
āYou okay?ā he asks first thing, and the knot in your chest unravels most of the way.
A year ago he would have been angry straight away. Probably wouldāve yelled and told you it couldnāt be his, it was someone elseās, he canāt have a kid right now, heās in the prime of his career.
But that was a year ago, and this is today.
And today, he just needs you to know itās okay.
āYou want me to come over?ā he asks and you smile despite yourself.Ā You want me to come over?Ā he asks, as if itās a quick drive instead of a flight to another continent.
You shake your head, unable to speak.
Jamie scratches the side of his face. This wasnāt the plan at all. Not really. Itās speeding things up by about a decade, thatās for sure, and hell he has no idea what to say but thatās never stopped him before so he opens his mouth and just starts talking.
āRight, yeah, fuck, okay. Right. Iām assuming youāve got a plan all worked out, yeah?ā
You nod and he grins a bit. Of course you do. Youāve got a plan for everything and he just likes to watch and follow along.
āRight,ā he says for probably the billionth time. āRight. Let me guess: Slow down work to just be online and pass off all the twats to fuckinā Samantha. Keep the ones you like for as long as fucking possible, then take holiday for at least a year. Knowing you, youāll want to go back at some point so youāllāve been looking for help for a while. I can be there as early asā¦ā he blows out a breath, āfucking⦠June? Finish post-season then make the switch to a club near you, thereās two, yeah? Mum and Simon wonāt make the move I donāt think, but theyāll want to be here for a while so I can get them a house. Sheāll be great, swear down, wonāt fucking hover unless you want her to. And babe, donāt fucking tell Keeley. I know you love her to bits but sheās shit at keeping things private, like.ā
You wish he werenāt so far away because you desperately want to kiss him.
āJamie, you canāt move here,ā you say.Ā
āThe fuck I can,ā he replies.
āYou donāt want kids,ā you remind him. āIām telling you because itās like, common fucking courtesy. And youād be a big fish in a small pond here. You canāt- they canāt accommodate you. Your career would just kind of- well, you know.ā
Jamie squints and looks away. Youāre right, to a point. His whole life is in England, in Europe.Ā
āYou canāt stop me,ā he says finally and you roll your eyes.
āI can. And I will. Iāve stopped you from other things before.ā
āName one,ā he challenges.
āHouse,ā you say ticking it off on your fingers. āCar, extended vacation in Spain, Bottega Veneta, multiple concert tickets, fuckingĀ wire transfers, shall I go on?ā
āNo,ā he says, and youāre both smiling. Strange. Youād thought this conversation would have been a lot colder. A lot angrier.
āIāll visit soon,ā he promises.
You wrinkle your nose. āLetās get this confirmed first, okay? Donāt book any flights just yet.ā
āIāll visit anyway.ā
You chuckle. He says it all the time, but never does. He canāt, really. Neither of you have the time for it- not till the summer. It isnāt unusual either. Half of his team are in long-term long-distance relationships. Itās just how it goes, apparently.Ā
But itās nice to pretend, at least. And youāre grateful everyone thinks Jamieās dating someone else, a model from Germany who heās always spotted with, and who you may (or may not) have known for years and is always willing to make a public scene to allow you your privacy.
So the conversation devolves from there, into arguments about visits and whoās going to win the Prem and the Championās League. He stays on the phone until Isaacās automated nightly threat comes through, and Jamie panics about the fact that heās awake long past his prescribed bed time. You make a crack at that, he laughs, and you whisper, āI love you.ā Jamie could pretend he didnāt hear it but he doesnāt, he holds the phone two millimeters from his face and whispers it back before you hang up on him.
And everythingās okay.
You donāt end up telling Noah. So sheās none the wiser to the four tests discarded in your bathroom trash, each negative. You vaguely chalk the missed periods up to stress which is far more than a likely explanation. And Jamieās relieved but when you call to tell him thereās a faint flicker of disappointment lacing his words.
Still.
Itās not the right time, but you wonder if maybe someday there will be a right time.Ā
Are you still actively posting Jamie tartt fics? I rewatched recently and I'm back in it hard core. Need more things to read š
I mean⦠kinda? Iām definitely still writing. If you have any requests feel free to let me know. I canāt guarantee Iāll write it but who knowsš¤·āāļø
Do you guys know Jamie is just a person I project the person Iām in love with onto? And thatās why sometimes you get random posts? I feel like this is important for you to know. Iām not necessarily a great writer, but Iām good at telling our story.
Are you still actively posting Jamie tartt fics? I rewatched recently and I'm back in it hard core. Need more things to read š
I mean⦠kinda? Iām definitely still writing. If you have any requests feel free to let me know. I canāt guarantee Iāll write it but who knowsš¤·āāļø
āRemember when you broke up with me and suddenly my instagram feed was all about how you fucked a model?ā
Jamie grimaces. āDo you have to bring that up every fucking time weāre together?ā
āYes,ā you reply. āItās funny to me. And itās my revenge for you being stupid.ā
āPretty sure you and mum are the only two who find it funny,ā he grumbles.
You snuggle closer to him. Itās cold outside, but youāre both bundled up and under two blankets. Plus thereās a fire going and sure, itās warmer inside where your families are, but itās quieter out here.
You say, āNah, Simon thinks itās hilarious too,ā and Jamie groans.Ā
āIām a fucking idiot, okay? I get it.ā
Your mum looks out the window and you pretend like you donāt notice. Yeah, you probably shouldnāt be out here with him. But sheās the one whose friends with Georgie and sheās the one who made the plans to spend Christmas together knowing full well what you and Jamie had been up to for the past year.
So she canāt really say anything.
Itās stupid.Ā
Itās so, so stupid. You swore off situationships but apparently Jamie is the exception and you rationalize it by saying you know exactly what youāre doing so itās fine.
Itās fine.
Youāre only here a few days and then Jamieās going back to training and youāre going back to work.
āGot any plans for the year?ā you ask. Jamie shrugs and it moves you around.
āNah, got some brand deal shit Keeleyās set up but mostly just keep training. Got the fuckinā World Cup this summer, soā¦ā he trails off.
What he doesnāt say is,Ā so Iāll be near you. You let it hang in the air.
Instead he says, āWhat about you?ā
You watch the flames from the fire curl into the sky. āYeah, Iāve got a lot going on, I guess. Mostly work. And Iām moving to London in the fall.ā
Jamie makes a noise. āDonāt read into it,ā you warn before he can say anything. āItās not for you.ā
He sighs. āThe fuck are we doing? Shouldnāt be this hard. We both fucking like each other. What if we tried again?ā
You laugh. āJamieee. Absolutely not. We barely made it out last time. Iām actually not sure we did, to be honest. And our mums would be fucking pissed if we messed it up again.ā
Heās quiet at that. Too quiet.
āHowās Roy Kent?ā you ask in an attempt to lighten the mood.
āHairy old prick,ā Jamie mutters out of habit. āWants us to fucking win the Prem and the Champions League, like we aināt fuckinā trying.ā
You laugh. āIām assuming heās also thinking about the World Cup?ā
Jamie groans. āDonāt fucking remind me. I want to win all that shit too, but Royoās sadistic. Got us training extra. Beard isnāt any better, either. Always got his nose in some fuckingĀ book.ā
Heās complaining, but you know he doesnāt mean it. He loves this shit. And youāre glad the teamās stable from Tedās move back to America.
āGot you something,ā he says after a few more minutes of silence. He gently pushes you off him so he can reach into his pocket.Ā
You take the box from his hand and open it. Itās surprising. Youād already finished opening gifts, nothing particularly extravagant, and you certainly hadnāt expected anything else from Jamie. And definitely not as direct as this.
āJamie,ā you breathe, āhow did you know?ā
He grins as you look up to meet his eyes. āAsked around,ā he replies. āKnew youāve been wanting that bracelet forever and youāre too fucking stubborn to get it for yourself, so.ā
He motions for you to hand it back to him, and you do. He takes it out and you extend your wrist. He fastens it gently. āYouāve gotta do more shit for yourself, yeah? Promise me.ā
āMaybe,ā you whisper, and he gives you a look. āFine. But Jamie-ā
āKid,ā he sighs.
āDonāt call me kid,ā you warn. āYouāre younger than me.ā
āThatās why itās fucking hilarious.ā
āJamie,ā you try again. āDo you actually want to keep doing this? We see each other at the most random, inopportune times then we⦠you knowā¦ā you trail off.
āFuck,ā he interjects and you smack his arm.Ā
Ow, he mouths.
āLook. You never date anyone. Everyoneās always speculating about it, and you never do. And I just wonder- I mean, I donāt want to presume but it seems like-ā
āIt is,ā he says. āCanāt fucking be with someone else when I think about you all the time, can I?ā
You wrinkle your nose. āJamie Tartt. That is the stupidest line youāve ever pulled.ā
Heās already shaking his head before youāre done speaking. āAināt a line.ā
Georgie looks through the window and smiles at the pair of you. Itās getting colder, and youāll have to go inside soon, but you want to finish this conversation. You arenāt sure when youāll have Jamie like this again.
āWhy did you break up with me?ā
He looks away at the fire, the sky, anything that isnāt your face. āDunno.ā
āLiar.ā
He looks back. āYou need someone better. I got scared. Same shit as always.ā
You wrinkle your nose again. āThatās shit. Try again.ā
Jamie toys with the bracelet on your wrist. You should slap him away, youĀ should.
You donāt.
āIĀ didĀ get scared,ā he says again. āFucking⦠terrified. Been in love with you since I were eight and following you around, werenāt I? Everyone says shit like I donāt know what Iām doing, I fucking need to play the field or what fucking ever, and I guess I⦠listened. Then felt fucking guilty as shit.āĀ
Neither of you are crying. Itās not that type of conversation.
āSo.ā
āSo,ā he echoes.
āWeāre getting married,ā he comments when you donāt say anything more, and that makes you laugh.
You push yourself out of Jamieās arms and head to the door. āThatās ridiculous of you to say. And Iām cold. Iām changing and then Iām going out, want to come? Luiza texted.ā
Jamie looks at you, and you can tell heās debating his options carefully.
āSure,ā he finally says, the words puffing out of his mouth into the freezing air. āSure.ā
iāve been rewatching ted lasso so obvs iām back in my jamie tartt/ roy kent era so THANK YOU because when i tell you i can never find any ted lasso fics but now i found your page and i have a whole master list to work thru!! i loved everything i read so far (a lot) so great job!
Iām glad to hear that!!! Yeah I hyper fixated HARD lolš
āRemember when you broke up with me and suddenly my instagram feed was all about how you fucked a model?ā
Jamie grimaces. āDo you have to bring that up every fucking time weāre together?ā
āYes,ā you reply. āItās funny to me. And itās my revenge for you being stupid.ā
āPretty sure you and mum are the only two who find it funny,ā he grumbles.
You snuggle closer to him. Itās cold outside, but youāre both bundled up and under two blankets. Plus thereās a fire going and sure, itās warmer inside where your families are, but itās quieter out here.
You say, āNah, Simon thinks itās hilarious too,ā and Jamie groans.Ā
āIām a fucking idiot, okay? I get it.ā
Your mum looks out the window and you pretend like you donāt notice. Yeah, you probably shouldnāt be out here with him. But sheās the one whose friends with Georgie and sheās the one who made the plans to spend Christmas together knowing full well what you and Jamie had been up to for the past year.
So she canāt really say anything.
Itās stupid.Ā
Itās so, so stupid. You swore off situationships but apparently Jamie is the exception and you rationalize it by saying you know exactly what youāre doing so itās fine.
Itās fine.
Youāre only here a few days and then Jamieās going back to training and youāre going back to work.
āGot any plans for the year?ā you ask. Jamie shrugs and it moves you around.
āNah, got some brand deal shit Keeleyās set up but mostly just keep training. Got the fuckinā World Cup this summer, soā¦ā he trails off.
What he doesnāt say is,Ā so Iāll be near you. You let it hang in the air.
Instead he says, āWhat about you?ā
You watch the flames from the fire curl into the sky. āYeah, Iāve got a lot going on, I guess. Mostly work. And Iām moving to London in the fall.ā
Jamie makes a noise. āDonāt read into it,ā you warn before he can say anything. āItās not for you.ā
He sighs. āThe fuck are we doing? Shouldnāt be this hard. We both fucking like each other. What if we tried again?ā
You laugh. āJamieee. Absolutely not. We barely made it out last time. Iām actually not sure we did, to be honest. And our mums would be fucking pissed if we messed it up again.ā
Heās quiet at that. Too quiet.
āHowās Roy Kent?ā you ask in an attempt to lighten the mood.
āHairy old prick,ā Jamie mutters out of habit. āWants us to fucking win the Prem and the Champions League, like we aināt fuckinā trying.ā
You laugh. āIām assuming heās also thinking about the World Cup?ā
Jamie groans. āDonāt fucking remind me. I want to win all that shit too, but Royoās sadistic. Got us training extra. Beard isnāt any better, either. Always got his nose in some fuckingĀ book.ā
Heās complaining, but you know he doesnāt mean it. He loves this shit. And youāre glad the teamās stable from Tedās move back to America.
āGot you something,ā he says after a few more minutes of silence. He gently pushes you off him so he can reach into his pocket.Ā
You take the box from his hand and open it. Itās surprising. Youād already finished opening gifts, nothing particularly extravagant, and you certainly hadnāt expected anything else from Jamie. And definitely not as direct as this.
āJamie,ā you breathe, āhow did you know?ā
He grins as you look up to meet his eyes. āAsked around,ā he replies. āKnew youāve been wanting that bracelet forever and youāre too fucking stubborn to get it for yourself, so.ā
He motions for you to hand it back to him, and you do. He takes it out and you extend your wrist. He fastens it gently. āYouāve gotta do more shit for yourself, yeah? Promise me.ā
āMaybe,ā you whisper, and he gives you a look. āFine. But Jamie-ā
āKid,ā he sighs.
āDonāt call me kid,ā you warn. āYouāre younger than me.ā
āThatās why itās fucking hilarious.ā
āJamie,ā you try again. āDo you actually want to keep doing this? We see each other at the most random, inopportune times then we⦠you knowā¦ā you trail off.
āFuck,ā he interjects and you smack his arm.Ā
Ow, he mouths.
āLook. You never date anyone. Everyoneās always speculating about it, and you never do. And I just wonder- I mean, I donāt want to presume but it seems like-ā
āIt is,ā he says. āCanāt fucking be with someone else when I think about you all the time, can I?ā
You wrinkle your nose. āJamie Tartt. That is the stupidest line youāve ever pulled.ā
Heās already shaking his head before youāre done speaking. āAināt a line.ā
Georgie looks through the window and smiles at the pair of you. Itās getting colder, and youāll have to go inside soon, but you want to finish this conversation. You arenāt sure when youāll have Jamie like this again.
āWhy did you break up with me?ā
He looks away at the fire, the sky, anything that isnāt your face. āDunno.ā
āLiar.ā
He looks back. āYou need someone better. I got scared. Same shit as always.ā
You wrinkle your nose again. āThatās shit. Try again.ā
Jamie toys with the bracelet on your wrist. You should slap him away, youĀ should.
You donāt.
āIĀ didĀ get scared,ā he says again. āFucking⦠terrified. Been in love with you since I were eight and following you around, werenāt I? Everyone says shit like I donāt know what Iām doing, I fucking need to play the field or what fucking ever, and I guess I⦠listened. Then felt fucking guilty as shit.āĀ
Neither of you are crying. Itās not that type of conversation.
āSo.ā
āSo,ā he echoes.
āWeāre getting married,ā he comments when you donāt say anything more, and that makes you laugh.
You push yourself out of Jamieās arms and head to the door. āThatās ridiculous of you to say. And Iām cold. Iām changing and then Iām going out, want to come? Luiza texted.ā
Jamie looks at you, and you can tell heās debating his options carefully.
āSure,ā he finally says, the words puffing out of his mouth into the freezing air. āSure.ā
heyya! i didnāt post as much as I did in 2023, and hereās why! for those of you who may not know, Iām a private practice therapist or a shrink as my cousin calls it. I learned a lot this year, especially how to balance my professional self with my personal self because often I become a workaholic and obsessed with being perceived correctly. Which is why I like this blog because none of you know me, so I can be who I want!
Anyway, this year I:
spent 1/3 of my year out of the country
got accepted into 4 PhD programs
built my client base almost up to full time (big deal for me!)
went through an awful breakup
kind of got back together with said breakup
split again (being a young therapist means the āI can fix himā mentality goes hard)
spent Christmas with said breakup bc his dad and mine are besties
was told by my supervisor sheād like to start training me for my own practice in 2025
started + collaborated on a specialized curriculum for special needs kids
began facilitating bi-weekly group therapy for a marginalized community
had a massive depressive episode from like august-november
fell back into binge-eating then pulled myself out of it
cried almost every day
NEXT year, I plan on:
moving semi-permanently out of country (most of my job is remote)
get funding for my PhD
expand my client base to full time
let people take care of me
remember that it is not my job to fix people outside of regularly scheduled hours
fix my sleep schedule
begin the build to own my own private practice
pass over all special needs work to other colleagues
ask for help when I start seeing signs of depression
continue to heal my relationship with food
laugh more
to be honest, this is more for me to remember than anyone else. hopefully you can see that the good and bad were intermixed with each other, and life is neither perfect nor linear. if I do not reach my 2025 goals, it does not mean I am a failure; it means I planned so big that I ran out of time to do it all.
Hereās to a brand new year and a fresh start. I hope you all remember that you are special, you are loved, and you have a purpose. If you feel none of those things, donāt worry! They are still true and one day your emotions will line up with reality. Keep moving forward š
I wish I could explain to you the absolute feat it was to complete these chapters. Iāve been having a TIME lol but like,,, not a bad time? Just a busy one. Iāll probably be gone for a bit (but who actually knows) since Iāve got a few end-of-year projects that have been taking up my time and brain. And I donāt recall if I mentioned before, but Iām on a 2-year medication that causes SUCH bad brain fog.
anyway. Thatās enough over sharing. Hereās the rest of were you sent by someone?
table of contents
iām not pretending in the way you are
It becomes a routine, Jamie coming over. It doesnāt help that Madeline (the fucking traitor) vaguely endorses the whole thing after girlās night at Keeleyās.Ā
āI genuinely think heās trying,ā she says. āHe goes toĀ therapy, for fuckās sake. Thatās got to meanĀ something.ā
āFuck you,ā you reply good-naturedly and Madeline just poses for another selfie with Clare.Ā
But sheās right. HeĀ isĀ trying, trying in a way he didnāt when you were together. Heās almost reliable, although youād never say it to his face. He shows up with flowers, doesnāt push boundaries, and more often than not he makes dinner.Ā
And heās fucking brilliant with Clare. Itās almost unfair how good he is, with no practice whatsoever. She loves him, smiles whenever she can see him and giggles when he holds her.
You take her to a game, once. Madeline comes too, wearing an oversizedĀ RojasĀ kit and a miniskirt. You just wear a red shirt and jeans, but Bean has aĀ TarttĀ onesie. You see Keeley Jones from afar and barely dodge having to talk to her. Jamie finds you after the match and Madeline takes a picture of the three of you. Jamie has his arms wrapped around you and youāre smiling. Itās a real smile too, and the picture ends up on your fridge. Youāre not sure how because you definitely didnāt put it there, but Madeline and Jamie are there often enough that it could have been either one of them.Ā
Most dinners devolve into fierce arguments between Jamie and Madeline about who love Clare the most, but you arenāt complaining. Sheās sleeping through the night now, so you let them argue while glued to your computer.
Jamie has taken to holding your hand whenever he can manage it. He always was one for physical touch, and itās nice. He hasnāt made a move beyond that and youāre not ready for that but whatever you have right now is working.
Georgie visits, and thatās strange. Youād only met her twice before, and now sheās in your house holding Clare while Jamie sits on the couch next to them. It feels like intruding almost, the way they all have the same face and the same smile, so you disappear upstairs. They wonāt notice, youāre positive, but thereās a tap on the door to your room and instead of looking up to see Jamie, itās Georgie. She comes in and sits at the end of your bed at your invitation and says, āAre you all right, love?ā
You smile, the one you use for photographs. Not fake, but not real either. āOf course,ā you reply. āIām glad you could come meet Clare. Youāre welcome back any time.ā
Georgie squints. āIt must be strange for you,ā she says, āgoing from being all alone to having the other side of Clareās family. It was hard enough for me when Simon came āround, much less Jamie. And Jamie was older, too, so the poor baby was always worried Simon was going to leave.ā
You nod. Youāre quite familiar with the story. You still arenāt sure Jamie trusts Simon, but maybe he wouldnāt trust anyone with his mum.
Which begs the question, do you really trust anyone with Clare? Jamieās been lovely for a whole month, but a month isnāt long enough to really tell. You wonder if the threat of him leaving will always loom over your head.
āJamie called me, you know,ā Georgie says. āIt was right after he met Clare. He wanted to know how to un-fuck up everything and I told him he might not be able to. He was a right little shit, I heard. I just told him what I would have liked when I was in your shoes, but I know it doesnāt magically fix everything.ā
And that⦠that makes sense. Not that Jamie couldnāt have figured out how to make things better on his own, but he did it almost perfectly. It makes sense why everything he did seemed to anticipate all your needs. Heād asked someone whoād been in your shoes, and hadnāt gotten the help she might have wanted.Ā
āHe loves you, you know,ā Georgie continues. She doesnāt seem to feel the need to pressure you to speak, which is good because you donāt have much to say. āI mean, he really, truly, spectacularly loves you. He speaks about you in all of our conversations, always going on about how amazing you are at your job and as a mum.ā Thatās interesting. You hadnāt known Jamie spoke to Georgie about you, much less what he might have said. You know Georgie can be many things, but she isnāt a liar.Ā
She hesitates for a moment. āYou donāt have to treat me like your mum, but Iād like to treat you as my daughter. I always hoped Jamie would choose someone whoād make him want to be better. Heās a sweet thing, he is, but he gets funny in the head sometimes, you know what I mean?ā
You smile. āJamie? Funny in the head? Say it isnāt so.ā
Georgie laughs. āAh, that Clare is going to have quite the sense humor between the two of you Iām sure. Youāll have to come āround up north when you can manage it. I know Simon would be absolutely delighted to meet you both.ā
Your eyes flicker. Thatās a big step. A very permanent, potentially painful step.
Georgie catches it and leans forward. āLove, Iām not just here because of the baby. Iām here because youāre someone Jamie cares about. Simon and I want to be a support system forĀ you.ā She smiles. āAnd of course, we donāt want to step on your toes. Jamesās parents were always trying to take Jamie, and I fucking hated it.ā
You hear footsteps on the stairs and Jamie appears with Clare. āOi,ā he says, āyou lot having a chat about me?ā
āNo,ā you and Georgie chorus and Jamie just squints. āFucking lying, you are. Can always tell.ā
You hold your arms out for Clare. At this rate, the kid wonāt be on the floor long enough to learn how to crawl.
āCruel,ā Jamie continues, and you roll your eyes. So dramatic, he is. āAnyway, came up to see if youād like to go out to eat tonight. I canāt do the fuckinā dishes. I need a break.ā
āLazybones,ā Georgie says, and itās different now than it was downstairs. It feels like family.
ā
Georgieās been gone a week and youāve been roped into dinner at Jamieās with Roy Kent and Keeley fucking Jones.
Thank fucking god Madelineās there as well with her on-again off-again boy toy whoās probably her soulmate and who she will most likely marry when sheās in her forties because otherwise youād lose your fucking shit.
Itās a strange dinner without the fact that you canāt stomach Keeley, because Roy fucking hates Jamie.
Youāre pretty sure he tolerates you, and he definitely likes Clare because he holds her most of the night before you put her down in her room to sleep.Ā
The feelingās mutual, because she cries the moment you take her from him.
You say, āYouāre good with kids,ā and Roy just shrugs.
Back at the dinner table, Madelineās had to dig her nails into your thigh. Sheās definitely going to leave crescent fingernail marks, but if it stops you from being rude, you wonāt wiggle away.
Jamieās oblivious. He just seems happy not to be alone in his giant, far too quiet house. Itās a relatively uneventful evening, although youāre not the biggest fan of the way Keeley tells stories about Jamie like he belongs to her, somehow. Or like you donāt exist.
By the time she and Roy leave, youāre exhausted. The last thing you want to do is wake Clare, drive her home, and try to get her to sleep again.
Madeline and Isaiah (aforementioned boy toy) leave soon after, and you call, āUse protection!ā as they walk down the steps.
āWorked well for you, did it?ā Isaiah asks and you flip him off, but you arenāt mad. Like you said, youāre relatively certain heās Madelineās soulmate and heās been around long enough that heās allowed to joke like that.
The door finally closes behind them and youāre ready to collapse. You turn to find Jamie with a similar expression and without conscious effort, you make your way into his arms.
You close your eyes and sigh as you rest your cheek on his chest.
He asks, āYou tired?ā and you nod. āWant to spend the night? Can make up the room next to Clareās. Wonāt take long.ā
You shake your head, and you feel him deflate a little. āI donāt want the room next to Clareās.ā
Jamie pulls away a bit to gauge your expression. āYou mean-?ā
You nod. āI hate sleeping alone. Itās cold and stupid.ā
Jamie says, āHm,ā and uses one hand to brush hair away from your face. Your gaze flicks to his lips for a moment, but he definitely sees it. You have just enough time to say, āWeāre not having sex,ā before heās kissing you, and you think that maybe forgiving him isnāt such a terrible idea after all.Ā
But youāre too tired to explore that idea further so when he breaks away to get some air, you pull him upstairs and to his room where you both collapse on the bed and fall asleep intertwined.
yāall I am SO SORRY this is so late. Iāve been caught up with end-of-year stuff at work and planning for next year. but Iām posting the last two chapters nowš
To be entirely honest, the longest and only conversation youāve ever had with goddamn Keeley Jones was at the Prada show right before you found out about Beanās existence.Ā
Youād prefer to keep it that way but fucking Madeline is friends with her so now youāre headed to a stupid, awful, horrible girlsā night at her house and youād rather fucking die.
Okay, maybe thatās a little dramatic. But your experiences concerning Keeley have been unpleasant at best.Ā
She first caught your notice in a tabloid on a yacht with Jamie and a screaming headline to match your screaming mind. It was two weeks after Jamie came over for the last time and apparently not enough time to get over him.
Youād gone straight to Madelineās to scream into a pillow.
Then she was in your instagram, and when you had blocked her she appeared in fan edits and fucking WAG accounts. Then she was at the Prada show and in magazines and on the telly. It felt like no matter how much you tried to shut her out, Keeley fucking Jones remained as a painful reminder.
It wasnāt her fault per se, but you hated the role she played in Jamieās deterioration.Ā
And now Madeline is fuckingĀ friendsĀ with her.
āWhat the actualĀ hell,Ā Madeline,ā you groan. āKeeley fucking Jones? Are you serious? Sheās the fuckingĀ worst.Ā AND sheās not to be trusted! The girl hardly has two braincells to rub together.ā
Madeline rolls her eyes. āI understand that you hate her. But sheās kind and sweet and actually a bit brilliant. Iām not going to tell her about you or Bean, but sheās not some vile, boyfriend-stealing bitch.ā
āIām not saying that,ā you reply as you try to get Clare to burp. āIām just saying that the girl could stand to grow up a little.ā
āThatās what Iām trying to tell you. She has. I think youād like her.ā
āFuck off,ā you scoff right as Clare burps. āSee? Clare agrees.ā
Madeline shrugs. āClare is three months old. She doesnāt get a vote.ā
You wrinkle your nose and say, āYou mean unless she agrees with you, right?ā and Madeline smiles her most angelic smile.Ā
āAll Iām saying is youāre more than welcome to come with me tonight.ā
āIād rather die,ā you inform her.
ā
Jamie has the day off. They won against Aston Villa on Sunday so heās supposed to be resting, but heās never been very good at that.
So he does what any self-respecting person would do and goes to his exās house.
He forgetsĀ Roy fucking KentĀ is going to be there until the man himself has opened the door but Jamie musters up some arrogance and breezes right by him. Keeley knows heās coming anyway, so heās not going to be harassed by some grumpy old twat.
Roy must be sick or something because he doesnāt say anything. If Jamie werenāt so consumed with his own worries he might actually be concerned.
But heās not so he sits on Keeleyās couch like he belongs there and lets her hand him a cup of tea before she sits down next to him.
Roy isnāt far off, pretending to read a book but Jamie is abso-fucking-lutely positive he hasnāt turned a single page yet.
But absolutely FUCK it because he needs Keeleyās professional, girl opinion.
āIāve got a kid,ā he says, and both Keeley and Roy do absolutely horrible jobs at pretending theyāre shocked.
āFuck off, how the fuck did you know?ā he protests. āWas it Ted?ā
Roy and Keeley exchange a Look and it just makes Jamie madder.
āTechnically it was Coach Beard,ā Keeley says in a mousy voice. āWe figured youād tell us when you were ready, Jamie.ā
Thatās just confusing. āHow the fuck did Beard know?ā he asks.
āKid looks just fucking like you,ā Roy says andĀ thatĀ makes Jamie mad too because when the fuck did Roy see Clare?
āI saw them on the green when I was with Phoebe,ā Roy clarifies and Jamie takes a minute to file that away as Roy Kentās first-ever non-swearing sentence.
He says, āfuckingĀ hell,ā because really, fucking hell. He went from not knowing he had a baby to knowing to apparently the whole Richmond coaching staff knowing (and apparently meeting) her.
Keeley asks, āIs that why youāre here, babes?ā and her gentle voice actually makes him want to fucking cry so he just nods and puts his head in his hands.
āDonāt know shit about being a dad,ā he says, voice muffled, and Roy slams his book shut because apparently he has shit to say.
āFuck off, Tartt,ā he says. āStop being a little bitch.ā
Keeley exclaims, āRoy!ā but sheās also curious about what he has to say because she doesnāt do anything else to stop him.
āI fucking mean it,ā he continues. āYou fucking come here expecting to fucking cry on the couch and be told youāre fucking shit at something and throw a fucking pity party, so fuck off. YouĀ mightĀ be a shit father, you donāt fucking know, but that girl doesnāt fucking think so and if I were her, Iād hate your fucking guts. So untwist your fucking pants and stop being a fucking whiny little bitch. Go fucking be a dad and if youāre shit, youāre shit. But stop looking for fucking sympathy for something youāve made up in your stupid fucking twat brain.ā
With that he pushes himself out of his chair, swears at his knee, and disappears into the kitchen, presumably to remain silent for the next year since heās met his word quota.
Jamie looks at Keeley as if to say,Ā Are you hearing this prick?Ā but Keeley just lifts a shoulder and says, āHeās right, babe. Youāve got to actually go do something about it.ā
So Jamie pinches the bridge of his nose and recounts everything his mum told him over the phone for some extra review.
ā
Clare is easy, as far as babies go, but for some reason tonight sheās decided to be an absolute terror. She wonāt eat, wonāt go to sleep, wonāt calm down. She just cries and cries and no matter how many times you check her temperature or her diaper, she cannot get it back together.
It doesnāt help that youāre tired, either. Like, newborn-level tired. And hungry, too. Youād order in but Clare hasnāt even allowed that so you open the fridge as best you can while bouncing Clare up and down. All you can see is a jar of gherkins, a can of soda, and some lemons.Ā
And a fucking banana which must be Madelineās because youād rather die of starvation than eat that shit.
Fucking hell.
I amĀ notĀ going to cryĀ you tell yourself sternly, except that doesnāt do anything except allow tears to well up faster than if youād just let it alone.
You canāt call Madeline because sheās at Keeleyās and youāll be damned if you interrupt her girlsā night. Madeline didnāt sign up to be tied down and she deserves a non-parent friend, so sheās not an option.
For a split second, you debate calling Jamie. But thatās a level of desperation you havenāt quite reached. You close the fridge and are saved from deciding what to do next by a knock on the door.
Clare wails like sheās being murdered, so you hope it isnāt the police but it isnāt, itās just Jamie with a bag of groceries. Heās in the house setting up in the kitchen before your brain catches up with your eyes and Clare just cries the whole time.Ā
You know exactly what heās making before heās even pulled out half the ingredients. Itās chicken pesto risotto, the dish you always begged him to make whenever he had a moment of free time. Jamie can cook maybe four things in total, but damn he can cook them well. He slices some bread, puts it on a plate with some butter and hands it to you, swapping the plate for Clare so easily that if you didnāt know better youād think heās been doing it his whole life. She stops crying the moment sheās in his arms and honestly, youāre too tired to worry about it. You crash on the couch and fall asleep after two bites.
Itās dark out when you wake up, but the lights are on in the house and itās warm. Someoneās gently caressing the top of your head and saying your name, so you open your eyes to Jamie standing over you.
Heās looking at you with a soft expression, and your heart aches. It all feels too painfully normal.
He says, āFoodās ready,ā and holds out a hand for you to grab.
You hesitate for the barest fraction of a moment before taking it. āLittle Beanās asleep in her bed,ā he continues. āYou hungry? Figured we could eat then you can go back to sleep.ā
You nod. āSmells good, J. Are you planning on spending the night, then?ā
Jamie shrugs. āI thought- I donāt know, I thought maybe you could use a break.ā
He sits next to you at the table. The foodās been set out, and itās still warm. Itās also the first meal you havenāt been responsible for in a good long while.
āSo youāre just here now,ā you say. āYouāre the kind of person who shows up, cooks dinner, puts the baby to bed and watches telly in the evenings? You could barely handle a relationship, and now you want a fuckingĀ family? You can leave me all you want, but I swear to God, Jamie, I will murder you if you hurt Clare.ā
Itās frustrating because it feels like youāre at an impasse. Jamie can come back once heās shown heās changed, but he canāt really show heās changed if he canāt fucking come back, can he?
It doesnāt matter that he probably has changed and you know deep down that evenĀ heĀ isnāt a big enough dick to abandon his daughter.
Jamie says, āIĀ am. I mean, I wonāt. I mean, fucking hell, you donāt have to fucking murder me, yeah? Just give me a chance, like.ā
You snort. āDo you even know how to change a diaper?ā
Jamie says, āGoogled it, didnāt I?ā and that makes you genuinely laugh. Of course he did. But you laugh too loud and it wakes up Clare, who lets you know sheās irritated with a shriek. You knock your head lightly against the table and whisper, āFuck,ā before putting down your fork. You push your chair out and Jamie stands, lightning-fast.
āI got it,ā he tells you, and you raise an eyebrow.
You reply, āOkay,ā because if heās going to act like a father, heās going to have to put in the work. And youāre hungry and this is your favorite meal. Besides, whatās the worst thatās going to happen?
So Jamie goes to Clareās room where sheās sobbing like thereās no tomorrow and you continue to eat while straining your ears to make sure Jamie isnāt panicking.
Unfortunately, you didnāt account for the fact that the worst thing that could happen is Jamie comes back out after ten minutes with a sleeping Clare on his chest and he looks so fucking hot that you want to jump his bones then and there.Ā
Jamie is thankfully oblivious. He sits back down and pats Clare on the back so she doesnāt wake up again.
āHowās the food?ā he whispers. āHavenāt cooked in fuckinā ages.ā
āGood,ā you whisper back and then you lapse into silence.Ā
Ā āI can stay the night, if you want,ā Jamie offers after a bit, and you glare.
āNot like that,ā he hastily amends, āI mean if you want to sleep. I can feed Clare and whatever.ā
You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. āJamie. What the fuck do you want from me? You canāt fucking come back here and play house when you want, and I get it, your dadās a piece of shit and you donāt want to be like him. But youāre in the fucking Prem, Jamie.ā
(āGot relegated,ā) he mouths, but you just keep talking. āFine. Youāre in the Championship but everyone knowsĀ youĀ at least are making it back to the Premier League and someday youāll be with a team in the Championās League and thatās a lot of travel. Itās a lot of nights alone, and youāre not exactly the kind of person who likes sleeping alone.
Jamie looks offended at that, but itās true. Heās twenty-six and in his prime.
This whole thing is just one giant circle with no solution.Ā
āOi,ā he says, and heās got his serious expression on. āI donāt want anything from you. I wantĀ you. Not even because of Clare, but sheās mint. I was coming to find you the other night because I wanted to fix things. I told you that. I meant it, I want to get back together. I know Iām hard to love sometimes but swear down, I want to make it work. Keeleyās on me aboutĀ commitmentĀ and shit and I dunno, it sounds nice. Iām fucking tired of fucking around. That shitās exhausting.ā
āYeah, because a baby and a girlfriend isnāt fucking exhausting as well.ā
Jamie wrinkles his nose. āFuckingĀ Garnachoās having a kid. If that little shit can handle it, I can too.ā
You concede. He has a point. āFine. You can spend the night. Iām going to shower and then pass out, which means youāve got the dishes and Clare. You can sleep in the guest room, yeah? Iāll set up the baby monitor.ā
Jamie smiles, and before you can really think it through, you lean over to kiss his cheek.
āThank you,ā you say softly before heading upstairs. Youāre going to get an earful from Madeline later, but for now youāre going to get good sleep for the first night in a long while.
Youāre no stranger to Jamieās internet presence, extensive as it is. But even though you know what comes up when you type jamie tartt babies you still think it should have come with a warning.Ā
Thereās picture after picture of him meeting toddlers, holding babies, signing tiny footballs and just generally being great with kids.Ā
Itās complete shit.Ā
He looks so natural with all of them, making them laugh as he smiles for the camera.
Youāre tired. You should be asleep so you can be rested for the next day but you just canāt. You move from the chair in Clareās room to your room, where you push open the doors to the balcony. You prop her monitor up on a chair just in case and take a deep breath. Youāre playing a dangerous game, you know that, and the stakes are higher now. But the more you think about it, the more you convince yourself it could work if only you could absolutely trust that Jamie wouldnāt leave again.
āDamn it,ā you whisper. Youāve already let him back in.
You sit and watch the mist roll in for another hour before doing your best to fall asleep.
Clare wakes up just before seven so youāre out the door for coffee by 8:30. Youāre rushing for no particular reason, but everything feels urgent now. You walk to get coffee for you and Madeline, still feeling the need to look over your shoulder. You canāt shake the idea that someoneās looking at you until you spot a man across the way, staring.Ā
It takes you all of two seconds to recognize Roy Kent.Ā
You smile, nod, and turn away but the hairs on the back of your neck prickle. He knows, a voice whispers, but thereās no way he does because no one knows. No one knows except Madeline and Jamie and your parents who live all the way in Spain because they can, so thereās no way Roy Kent also knows that the baby youāve wrapped to your chest is actually a mini Tartt, despite the fact that she does not have his last name. Just his whole face structure, apparently.
The walk to Madelineās feels slower than normal but you finally let yourself into her flat and onto her couch.
Sheās scrolling on her phone while a woman does her hair and another does her makeup.
āMadeline,ā you say, no preamble, āI need you to tell me Iām an absolute idiot.ā
āNo,ā she says without looking up from her phone. āIām not psychic. Do something stupid and then Iāll reconsider but everyone knows youāre the one with the braincells in this relationship.ā
āMadeline,ā you plead, and she finally looks up.
āBabe. We both know youāve already taken him back in your head. And weāve never spoken about it because I was giving you your space to come to terms with the fact that youāre fucking hung up on him and most likely will be until the end of time. I canāt entirely blame you because he can be amazing. But when heās shit, heās shit. Itās just a matter of time before youāre back together and if he knows whatās good for him, he wonāt fuck up this time, but...ā she trails off.
āBut he doesnāt always know whatās good for him,ā you finish. āFuck. Iām so fucked.ā
Madeline shrugs. āMaybe.ā
āThe fuck do you mean, āmaybeā?ā
āHold still,ā whispers the makeup artist so thereās a moment of silence before Madeline says, āItās entirely within the realm of possibilities that he is turning himself around from grimy little footballer to respectable athlete. Donāt you think itās at least worth noticing that his ex-girlfriend vouches for him?ā
āMads, what the fuck,ā you groan. āYouāre supposed to tell me to date a rapper. Or move to Milan. Or marry a millionaire. Not say that thereās a chance this will work.ā
Clare fusses in your arms so you stand up and start swaying her back and forth. āBean, give me your thoughts on this look,ā Madeline says, so you walk over and hold Clare up. She sneezes, and you laugh.
āThat means she likes it,ā Madeline says. āLook, Bean is so little she wonāt even remember if her dad leaves again. Then at least youāll know, you know what I mean? Youāre going to give him a chance anyway, so might as well do it while sheās small and has no sense of object permanence.ā
You laugh with a bit of resignation. Madelineās right, as per usual. āI promise I wonāt be overbearing when he leaves.ā
Madeline grins. āYou can be as overbearing as you like as long as you keep bringing me coffee. Donāt know what Iād do without you.ā
āFunny,ā you reply, āI was going to say the exact same about you.ā
Madeline smiles her most angelic smile. āIām a fucking saint,ā she says. āHey, are you staying for the interview? Bean can nap upstairs if you like.ā
You shake your head. āNo, sheās been waking up crying and you donāt need that in the background. I think weāll walk around for a bit, the fresh airās good for her and I really want some tea.ā
Madeline says, āI have tea,ā and you amend, āIām going to want tea that I donāt have to make.ā
Madeline snorts, and the two of you lapse into silence. Youāre quiet for the rest of the time it takes for her to finish getting ready (twenty minutes), help her choose which outfit (the dark grey one), and then pass her Clare for some photos before heading out the door. The day feels less ominous after seeing her, so you head home to get Clareās pram in hopes sheāll fall asleep.
You almost donāt want to go out again by the time youāve changed and fed her, eaten lunch, and re-bundled the both of you up but Clare seems like sheās not going to sleep without a fight, so you sigh and head out the door again.
You head to the Richmond green, thankful that the sun is shining despite the brisk air. Clareās passed out after one lap so you look for a bench in the sun. You sit and watch as people jog by and kids kick a ball around.Ā Itās a nice day. Maybe youāll call Madeline and see if she wants to come over for dinner once sheās done working.
No, she has a dinner with some of her collaborators. Youāre on your own tonight, unless you call Jamie. Your nose wrinkles involuntarily at the thought. He might not even want that, so youāll let it alone.
A man walks along the path with a little blonde-haired girl. No- itās Roy Kent. You didnāt know he had a daughter but then again, he certainly wouldnāt be the first in that situation.Ā
She clearly likes him by the way sheās bouncing up and down as she pulls on his arm. It seems despite his reputation as Chelseaās hard man he has a soft spot for whoever this child is. You duck your head as if heāll recognize you, even though you know he wonāt.
āUncle Roy, when are we going to Keeleyās?ā you here the girl say as they get closer and you file that away. So itās Uncle Roy, then. You miss his answer as Clare fusses so you gently push her pram back and forth and murmur, āGo back to sleep, Bean.ā
Roy and the girlās footsteps stop. Right in front of you.
Roy looks into the pram and then at you. You have no choice but to meet his gaze and fuck, he definitely knows. But how the actual fuck did he find out?
āNice baby,ā he finally says and you donāt reply.
āIām Phoebe,ā says Phoebe, in an apparent attempt to dispel the tension. Sheās a smart kid, you can tell, and the last thing you need is some random child blabbing your business all around London.
You say, āI think your Uncle Roy already knows who I am,ā you say, and Roy doesnāt even look a little fucking guilty.
Of course he knows, Keeley had all but put together a Powerpoint presentation by the morning.
āYour friend knows my girlfriend,ā he says, and it doesnāt take a genius to figure out that Keeley fucking Jones has struck again. She always was a bit too nosy for your taste.
You frown, sigh, and say, āWhy donāt you have a seat?ā
Roy sits on the far end of the bench with Phoebe in the middle. Youāre both watching each other carefully, as though one of you could snap at any moment.
āWhat do you want?ā you ask, voice sharp. āIt canāt be money, I canāt imagine youāre hard up. Are you misguided enough to ask me to disappear before I ruin your golden boyās career? Because believe me, Iām not trying to start anything. Heās the one who came looking for me, for your information.ā
You donāt stop rocking Clareās pram. Itās a calming motion for both you and for her because unfortunately, thereās no easy escape route here.Ā
Roy asks, āYou worried heās going to end up like his fucking dick of a father?ā and Phoebe (who has been pretending like she isnāt listening) scribbles furiously in her notebook.
That is not even close to what you expected him to say. You just look at him, eyes wide. āI-ā you start, then stop. What the hell are you supposed to say to that?
Youāre no stranger to James Tartt. Jamie had come home more times than youād care to count with a bruised eye or a split lip, and it wasnāt until the third time you were putting ice on his face that he finally told you why.Ā
āJamie isnāt like that,ā you tell Roy. He has to know Jamie isnāt like that. He works with him. He has to.
āHow the fuck do you know?ā Roy asks, but itās more bemused than anything.Ā
āHeās never done anything even close to what James has done,ā you say, and itās true. Itās not even a stretch of the imagination, Jamie never raised his voice or his hand at you.
It didnāt stop him from breaking your heart, but thatās neither here nor there.Ā
Roy shrugs. āYou never fucking know, do you? Whoās to say itās not fucking genetics or some shit?ā
That pisses you the fuck off. Jamieās no saint, but you believe that deep down heās good. You believe he wants to be good.
So you smile, look Roy directly in the eyes over Phoebeās head, and say as cold as you can, āFuck you. You donāt know what youāre talking about.ā You stand. āWeāre leaving.ā
Roy says, āOi,ā but itās softer than the horrible things heās been insinuating about Jamie so you turn back to him.Ā
āHeās not fucking horrible,ā Roy says quietly, and almost as though it pains him to get the words out. āHeās a right little shit, but the prickās had a rough fucking time of it lately. Go fucking easy on him, because no one else fucking does.ā
You raise an eyebrow.
āIām not fucking saying he doesnāt fucking deserve it, but I am fucking saying heās not a world-class prick and if you fucking were going to give him a fucking chance, itās not the fucking stupidest thing Iāve fucking seen.āĀ
Roy seems as though heās hit his limit for both speech and sentimentality, and youāre no stranger to his rivalry (hatred?) with Jamie so you take his words for what they are.Ā
You nod. āDonāt tell him you saw me,ā you say and Roy almost smiles.Ā
āFucking donāt like to fucking talk to Tartt more than I fucking have to,ā he replies. You smile back at him and as you leave he says, āShe really fucking looks like him,ā and you nod.Ā
guys I got confused and apparently Iāve had chapter five done for a while and the chapter Iāve been stressing over is actually chapter six??? Iām so terribly sorry! But here it is lol, Iām still a bit concerned Iāve written myself into a corner but Iāll post chapter six on Monday if not sooner.
table of contents
at least Iām trying
Jamieās the one driving the car, but heās actually worried that heās about to be a murder victim. Heās never been a big fan of true crime, so heās not entirely fucking thrilled that heās going to be come one but he supposes he probably deserves it and anyway, maybe death isnāt so bad in the grand scheme of things.
Except he wants to actually hold Clare and buy her things and tell her he loves her and never leave her ever.
So maybe death-by-Madeline is actually so bad in the grand scheme of things.
āWhat the HELL is your problem?ā she asks, and sheās actually expecting an answer so Jamie has to think fast. What the hell is his problem? No- what has he done in the present for Madeline to come straight from Milan to chew him out?
āWhat exactly do you mean?ā he asks carefully. He needs to make sure Madeline knows he isnāt fucking hostile or some shit, and that maybe if he handles this right she can put a good word in with you.
He knows heās reaching, but hey. Heās made it this far in life.
Madeline glares at him. āI mean, where the fuck do you get off showing up like this? Are you trying to take Bean? Because let me tell you, only one of us was at the birth and that shit was fucking gross. But the ones who showed up are the ones who get to take care of her, not some deadbeat father whoās too busy kicking a ball and fucking models to actually care about anything.ā
That offends Jamie, but it terrifies him more than anything else. Because yes, he wasnāt around, but he didnāt know. And now he does fucking know and he has to actually see if heās a good father or if being a piece of shit truly is genetic.Ā
But he canāt imagine treating Clare even a fraction of the way his father treated him, so heās hopeful.
He says, āI just want them to be taken care of,ā and Madeline sighs.
āYou canāt keep dragging her around, Tartt,ā she reminds him as if he didnāt remind himself a year ago before thinking fuck it and calling you. It was supposed to go different. He was supposed to tell you he loved you and wanted you back and was done being a fucking idiot, except he got freaked out so he clammed up and left. And maybe thatās the strongest evidence as to why he should just leave the whole thing alone.
Jamie says, āIām not,ā but it feels like heās trying to convince himself at this point.
āBeing a parent is a lot of responsibility,ā Madeline says.
He says, āI know,ā then realizes heās driven them to your street. He parks where he knows you canāt see him and waits for whatever Madeline has to say next.
She pinches the bridge of her nose. āShe still loves you a little bit, you know. Thatās why this whole thing is such shit. I truly think sheād take you back if she could trust the fact that you wouldnāt leave her, and I actually fucking think it would be good for her. But youāre the fucking worst so it isnāt going to happen, obviously.ā
āIām not leaving,ā Jamie says. āI wouldnāt do that to Clare.ā
Madeline says, āYouāve met her twice,ā and Jamie gets her point. Because yeah, heās met her twice and he loves her but thatās not really a reason to try to patch things up with you, and thatās what Madelineās really saying, so Jamie says, āItās not because she has our baby.āĀ
āOh, is it not?ā Madeline asks in her most sarcastic posh voice. āThen by all means, enlighten me as to what you think youāre doing with my best friend other than re-fucking her up.ā
Sheās got bags under her eyes, partially from Milan and partially because sheās just tired too. Itās her firmly-held opinion that you deserve the whole entire world and nothing less, but there isnāt much she can do to give it to you. She can try to protect you, she can threaten Jamie and torment him and bring you coffee and help put Bean down for naps but she canāt take the entire weight of it off of you.Ā
And she was being completely fucking honest when she said she thought Jamie would be good for you. He was the best when you were together, always taking care of you when no one else would, and Madeline worries sometimes that youāll never let that happen again.Ā
āYou donāt NEED a man,ā sheād said more than once, ābut if you wanted one just to take your mind off things or to buy your dinner I have a whole list.ā
āIām pregnant, Madeline,ā youād reminded her to which sheād just grinned and said, āBabe, there are real men out that who love that shit.ā
Youād never taken her up on her offer because she knew, down in her core, that you were waiting for Jamie. She never, ever brought it up because she also knew you would be mortified to admit it. And that even though you wished for it deep in your soul, you also knew it would never happen.
āIām not going to re-fuck her up,ā Jamie says firmly, and if this were less serious of a situation he sees at least three ways he could turn that sentence into something dirty. āI have a plan.ā
Madeline raises an eyebrow. āI find that hard to believe,ā she says. She reaches for the door and shoulders her away bag. Jamie watches her walk up the street and to your house without looking back once.
ā
The first thing Jamie does is call Georgie because he actually does not have a plan. He has a vague idea of sweeping you in his arms and kissing you and thatās about it. He just canāt for the life of him figure out how to get there.
But his mumās been on the other end of this, so sheās got to have some wisdom for him which is why Jamie calls her before heās even out of your neighborhood.
He starts talking before Georgie can even say hello. He tells her the whole thing and about the fact that heās an entire father out of nowhere and he has no idea what heās even doing but thereās a part of him that wants to quit football and yes mum, he knows heās being fuckinā dramatic but he just wants to get his point across yeah? And by the time heās done explaining that he just wants to make things right and permanent, heās back inside his big empty house and wishing he were over at yours instead.
Georgie sighs and says, āI love you darling, but youāve really fucked it,ā and Jamie feels awful.
āI just donāt want to be like Dad,ā he says quietly and Georgie says, āJamie Tartt, you are nothing like that man. Youāre my sweet, sexy little baby and youāve grown up so much since youāve been away. Donāt you ever think youāre like him.ā
Sheās right, Jamie knows that, but still. āSo what do I do?ā he asks.
Georgieās silent on the other end of the line for a moment. Jamie doesnāt know if sheās hesitating or thinking but she says, āNow Jamie, I canāt promise this will work for you. And you need to make sure youāre listening to what that poor girl wants every step of the way. But I can tell you what I used to wish your father would do for me back in the day.ā
Jamie digs around his house for a pen and paper because whatās the good in being Englandās best striker if you canāt go for a long shot?
ā
Youāre not surprised Madeline is at your door, but you are surprised that she hasnāt been back to her flat yet.
āYour flight got back hours ago,ā you say, baffled. She just shrugs. āCustoms was an absolute nightmare,ā she responds and you know sheās lying but you donāt question it. You just wave your hand vaguely to the guest shower that doubles as Madsā second home and pull out a takeout menu.Ā
Clare is on the brink of sleeping through the night, but she still isnāt quite there so you just do not have the brain space to cook a real dinner. Itās not like Madeline cares, anyway.
By the time the food arrives, Madeline is out of the shower and laying on the couch with Clare as she recounts her trip, carefully omitting how much time she spent with Keeley fucking Jones. You know you shouldnāt hate her, but god, every time you see or hear her she just says one insensitive thing after another. So you donāt pry when Mads clearly skips over something; you only press when you know itās about whoever her mystery fling was, which she is less tight-lipped about.
Itās only after youāve both eaten and Clare is (mostly) asleep for the night that she asks far too casually, āYouāre not thinking of getting back together with Jamie, are you?ā and you nearly choke.
āI beg your fucking pardon?ā you laugh and she lifts a shoulder in a shrug.
āI think heās going to try something,ā she says. āI just donāt want you to get hurt again. Just because he wants you back doesnāt mean heās going to fucking change. Itās really not the same shit, you know.ā
You say, āYeah, I know,ā because you do. But if heās going to volunteer to be awake late at night so you donāt have to, you might just take him up on it. Especially because you think it would be a much-needed humbling experience for him.
āWhat if I did?ā you ask while Madeline sips her wine. āWhat if I did take him back?ā
Madeline sets down her glass with a clink. āThen I think youād need a plan,ā she says seriously.
ā
Madelineās plan consists of specifically detailed criteria Jamie must meet before heās redeemed as a trustworthy person. It includes signifiers of emotional intelligence, maturity, and a general sense of stability that has been previously dispelled. She writes everything down and sticks it to the fridge with a magnet, right under Clareās ultrasound photos.Ā
āIf he can well and truly change, then heās allowed back,ā she says, and you agree.Ā
And for the first time, you allow your hope to come to the surface.
Meanwhile, Jamieās finished his own list. Everything his mum wouldāve like to see his dad do and everything Simon actually did do to win her over. Itās a wide range, thatās for sure, from flowers to grocery shopping to fucking cooking which he definitely hasnāt done since he was twenty-one but he knows how to fucking read, doesnāt he? Cookingās just following instructions and he can do that pretty well on the pitch, so it probably is the same thing.Ā
Heās awake all night. All he can think about is how much he misses you in the bed next to him, and then around four in the morning he gets really fucking worried that all of this is just selfish and he should actually just leave you alone.
So instead of trying to sleep (because apparently itās useless) he makes a cup of coffee and goes for a walk.Ā
He walks all the way to the green in the dark and goes to sit on a bench, except itās already occupied.
āMorninā Jamie,ā says Ted. āBit early for a walk, aināt it?ā
Jamie just looks at him. āYouāre awake too,ā he points out, and Ted shrugs.
āJust a little jet lagged,ā he replies.
Jamie knows thatās bullshit, and he says it. āYouāve been here long enough, coach.ā
Ted shrugs again. āGuess it never really leaves you.ā
He doesnāt say anything else but he doesnāt seem like heās trying to get rid of Jamie, so Jamie sits down. A few minutes pass before Ted says, āHenry wanted to talk, so I woke up to FaceTime him. Then I couldnāt go back to sleep because I just miss him so dang much.ā
Jamie says, āSame coach,ā without thinking, and now itās Tedās turn to give him a look. Jamie ignores it and says, āI got a kid. Couldnāt fucking sleep thinking about her and her mum, you know? I just want to be fucking⦠involved but itās all weird, like.ā
āWeird how?ā Ted prompts. He has enough questions to fill a black hole but heās sure itāll come out sooner or later so for now heās just going to listen.Ā
Jamie leans back and stares at the sky as it begins to lighten. āPretty sure Iām still in love with her. I sort of fucking suspected when I were with Keeley, but it werenāt till I saw her again that I knew for sure. But I donāt want to be fucking selfish and shit, so now I think I should just leave them alone.ā
āIs that what she wants?ā Ted asks as if he hasnāt had this conversation with himself a million times and moved to stinkinā London to try to prove that he wasnāt selfish himself.
Jamie lifts a shoulder. āShe doesnāt want me to leave again.ā
Jamie might have stretched the truth. He has an appointment, yes, but not a medical one, like. Thereās enough doctors and shit on staff at Richmond. But no one there has fucking critical thinking or whatever, so heās able to go early. He goes to the shops and doesnāt pray he remembers what you like, instead he prays that it hasnāt changed.
He gets recognized but he hopes the flowers in his hand donāt signal anything to the fans. If anyone asks he can just say theyāre for his mum or something, itās not totally fucking unrealistic, but his lyingās gotten progressively worse recently. Probably because heās out of practice, but he doesnāt actually want to get back in practice, if you know what he means.
He also prays that your address is the same. You loved that house and heād be surprised if you moved but itās almost a year since he last saw you and much longer than that since you were actually together.
Maybe he should have become Catholic so he could say a proper Hail Mary. But he isnāt one, so instead he just hopes harder than he has in a while and knocks on the door. The doorbellās taped off with a note that says, baby sleeping so he thinks he probably has the right house after allĀ
He hears footsteps, has the quickest panic attack known to man, then the door opens to reveal you.
Jamie has never wanted to make a baby more than this moment, if heās being honest. He can tell youāre in the middle of work but the way it takes a split second too long to figure out whatās happening and the pen behind your ear. You look the same, but assured and he knows itās because you donāt need him. He wants to unbutton your shirt and also tell you that he loves you more than heās ever loved anyone in his whole entire life and he knows heās a fucking idiot but his thoughts have never been good at finding their way to his mouth so instead he just says, āHey,ā and pulls the flowers from behind his back.
Jamie doesnāt miss the way your eyes widen in what he can only construe as fear at the sight of him. It subsides into wariness when he hands you the flowers, but he doesnāt like that the fear was there in the first place. He understands you want to be cautious, but fear?
Thatās not good at all.
So he telegraphs all his movements as best he can. Shoulders down, hands at his sides and unclenched. He takes half a step back but asks, āCan we talk?ā and watches you play a million outcomes in your head at once.
You donāt want to let him in, but Clareās asleep in the living room. And the flowers are an indicator that heās here for some positive reason so you step aside and say, āYou can come to the kitchen.ā
Jamie knows heās on thin ice so he barely looks any other direction than straight to where you direct him. He doesnāt sit. He stands in the middle of the kitchen and awkwardly holds the flowers before you take them from him and set them on the counter. He opens his mouth to say something (heās not quite sure what yet) and is saved by the baby crying in the other room.Ā
The baby.Ā
You sigh and go to get her and he scans the room as best he can for any indicator as to her name. He doesnāt see anything but photos stuck to the fridge. You come back into the room before he can move to look closer.Ā
āHer nameās Clare,ā you say offhandedly. āYouāre not on the birth certificate. Youāve always said you didnāt want to have kids, and Iām pretty fucking sure you wouldnāt want them with me. And-ā you pause. Clareās awake and staring right at your face. She really does look like Jamie.
āAnd,ā you continue, āI didnāt really want you to come back just to fuck off again. Clare doesnāt deserve that. And youāve been acting like a right fucking idiot all over national television, so.ā
Jamie nods. āMakes sense.āĀ
You wait for him to say something else but he doesnāt, just looks so uncharacteristically lost that you sigh.
āYouāre not here about custody, are you,ā you. Jamieās eyes widen.
āFuckinā hell, thatās what you thought this was about? Iām not- I wouldnāt- Iāve been to going therapy.ā
You raise an eyebrow. Thatās new. Maybe thatās what fucking Keeley Jones meant about decent. But heās not getting off so fucking easy, if at all.Ā
āSo what, you go to therapy a couple times and now youāre fixed? And you want a family? Or to apologize? You havenāt made it entirely clear why youāre here.ā
Jamie says, āIām here because I miss you,ā and you scoff.Ā
āNo- shit, I mean- Iāve missed you for a long fucking time but my texts werenāt going through, so I figured you blocked me. And Madeline is fucking terrifying, babe. But I was looking for you the other night because I wanted to apologize. And see if you wanted to get back together,ā he says, and youāre not entirely sure how to react.
āRight,ā you say, āwell, thatās not fucking happening. You dumped me after a year, called me a two in the morning five months later, so yes, I blocked you. And you should be fucking scared of Madeline because I had to forcibly restrain her from ruining your goddamn life despite the fact that I actually wanted her to go completely apeshit. I have more important things than some twenty-six year old footballer whoās only just now getting his life together when Iāve had it together since I was eight. I have a job and a baby, and Iām handling both in the house that Iāve owned since I was twenty-two because like I said before, Jamie Tartt, Iāve had my life together since I was fucking eight years old. I had the same damn childhood as you and yet Iām not the one who has only recently learned what the fuck empathy is.ā
Your rant upsets Clare, who begins crying. āShit,ā you sigh. āIām sorry, Bean. You hungry?ā You glance at Jamie. āIām going to sit on the couch.ā
āRight. Yeah,ā says Jamie as he follows you to the next room. He sits gingerly on the couch across from you and you sigh again. Heās relatively harmless, and youāre well-versed in what he looks like when heās up to no good. You pat the spot next to you and he sits, still carefully, while you adjust Clare. It isnāt until you sit down that you realize how fucking tired you are.
āSheās so fucking small,ā Jamie whispers. āHow the fuck do you ever get anything done? Iād just be looking at her.ā
You laugh, but itās short and brittle. āThings need to get done Jamie. Sheās hungry, she needs to be changed, I have work to do and Iāve got to eat, but Iām sick of ordering in so I try to meal prep as much as I can but I donāt ever sleep and Iām afraid of burning the house down, so most of the time I eat frozen dinners at four a.m. because sheās awake.ā Jamie doesnāt say anything, just listens. Heās inched closer or maybe you have or maybe both, because your thighs are touching and it sends the same shivers up your leg that it did two years ago. āIām tired all the time,ā you whisper. āItās like my bones are tired. I think Madelineās the only one who has any idea what itās like and she can only help so much. Besides, sheās itās her last night in fucking Milan and Iām not about to be that mum friend whoās constantly making everything about her baby. Itās just so much work, Jamie. You have no idea.ā
You shouldnāt, you know you shouldnāt but Madeline isnāt here and what she doesnāt know wonāt kill her, so you rest your head on Jamieās shoulder.
He freezes for a moment before tilting his face to touch the top of your head.
And youāre furious. It should have been like this before and as soon as itās over your going to wish that it were like this more often. Itās a fantasy.
But youāll indulge a little while longer before seriously considering moving somewhere else. Probably Chelsea if youāre being honest; itās not too far away but itāll give you the space you need to remind yourself that Jamie isnāt for you. Heās for someone else, someone like Keeley.
And anyway as soon as you want to let Madeline find you a man, you know youāll have no shortage of options.
Itās not about that, though. Itās about the fact that youāve been on your backup plan ever since Jamie left and youād give anything to feel like youāre in control again.
Jamie murmurs, āI want to help,ā and you shake your head slightly.Ā
āDonāt need money, my darling. I need someone to change her diaper at one in the morning.ā
āThatās what I mean,ā Jamie says and you chuckle.
āAnd when do you have time for that?ā you ask. āDonāt you footballers have a strict sleep schedule? And youād have to be here in the guest room because thereās no way Iām taking Clare to yours.ā
Jamie shrugs and you sit up. āDonāt take this the wrong way love, but plenty of footballers ignore their sleep plan to fuck around. Itās got to be healthier and shit to take care of a kid, yeah?ā
āNo,ā you say. āYou canāt just show up and slip back into my life like that. I havenāt talked to you in almost a year and now youāre here on my couch, which is fine, but you canāt just come all the way back.ā
Jamie frowns. āSo what do I have to do?ā
You shake your head. āThatās something for you to figure out without me.ā
ā
Jamie replays the whole thing from the time he gets back into his car to go home to the time he falls asleep. And then starts again when he wakes up and heads to the Dogtrack. The only person who looks at him twice is Higgins, although that may be more to Jamieās choice of lime green sweatpants than his mental state.
He canāt get Clareās face out of his head. He canāt get the feeling of your body on the couch next to him out of his system.
He wasnāt sure what he wanted when he returned to Richmond, he just knew he wanted something different. Maybe this is it. Ā
Heās so wrapped up in his thoughts that he knocks completely into Roy on his way to get his lunch.
āFucking watch where youāre fucking going,ā Roy grunts but Jamie barely acknowledges him. Ā
And thatās how Roy knows something is wrong because the little shit is never one to back down from an argument. But heās Roy fucking Kent and the last thing heās going to do is ask Tartt about his fucking feelings so he just walks away and forgets about it.
In hindsight, he thinks it probably would have provided some fucking context to what heās seeing in front of him.Ā
A very apologetic Keeley Jones hangs on his arm while he watches some short brunette march into the locker room as if she owns it, grab Jamie by the ear, and start swearing at him.
No one seems to know what to do, probably in too much shock to stop Madeline from dragging Jamie (still by his ear) out of the room and presumably to the car park.Ā
Roy catches Beardās eye, entirely by accident, who shrugs. Ted claps his hands and says something to the effect of, āEveryoneās made poor decisions when it comes to women, Sam go check on Jamie,ā before following Roy and Beard to the coachesā office. As soon as the door is firmly shut, Ted says, āWhat in the Sam Hill was that? I know Jamieās ruffled a few feathers in his time, but Iāve never seen anything like that before, no sir.ā
Everyone looks expectantly at Keeley. After all, she was the one chasing Madelineās heels as she shouted, āGod DAMN it Tartt, Iām going to fucking kill you!!ā down the hall.
āWell you see,ā Keeley begins, voice mousy, āI was in Milan where I met Madeline. We were chatting and we both found out we knew Jamie. And sheās friends with this girl who lives here in Richmond, and it turns out she and Jamie dated right before he was with me. I donāt know what he did but he did something awful while we were away because she got a text, said, āFucking Tartt,ā and then stepped out to take a phone call. She came straight here from the airport; I think her taxiās still outside, actually.ā She lifts one shoulder in a shrug. āIām just surprised Jamieās fucked something up again. Heās been doing so well recently.ā
āJamie has a kid,ā Beard says like he canāt hold it in any more. Heās met with shocked silence until Ted says, āWell Iāll be. Jamie Tarttās got a little tartlet,ā and then everyoneās talking at once. Mainly, how does Beard know and what does that have to do with his arse getting hauled to the car park?
Tedās just thankful this debacle happened at the end of the day, because the team canāt afford to miss any training with the Aston Villa game coming up. Thereās a knock on the door, and Ted opens it to reveal Sam.Ā
āJamie is going home with that angry young woman,ā he says.Ā
Ted asks, āShould we be concerned?ā and Sam shrugs.Ā
āHe did not seem as though he needed rescuing,ā he replies, and that makes sense. From what anyone could tell, it almost seemed as though Jamie felt like he deserved whatever Madeline was saying to him. As if he expected it. But no one has any more answers so they all just sort of disperse to their various homes.Ā
Keeley though, Keeley is so fucking curious she thinks she might explode. So as soon as sheās at Royās and seated on his sofa she opens her laptop and scrolls through Madelineās entire fucking instagram to look for clues. Itās hard, what with all the brand deals and photo dumps, but Keeleyās a professional. She has a list of girls who occur in multiple photos throughout the years, checks off their socials, but comes up empty.Ā
Well, almost empty.
Half of Madelineās friends are private, so those are Keeleyās top suspects, but thereās one friend whose photos switch from being full length to shoulders-up only about nine months ago. And thereās a selfie of Madeline in a hospital bed with this same friend buried in a photo dump from two and a half months ago with the caption, āshe lived, bitch.ā Itās focused on their faces and nothing else, but Keeleyās one hundred percent positive this is the girl.
Keeley spends the rest of the night on her computer scouring the internet for as much as she can possibly learn while Roy makes her tea and reads next to her.