Gators a little fucked up in his choices but he means well, secret spilling from Blake. 🫢
18+ 18+ 18+
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“Hey!” Blake called as he chased after you as you walked out of the playground once Dollie made it into the classroom, your chest tightened at the sound of his voice. You kept walking, not even acknowledging him.
“Wait” he caught up with you hand gripping onto your wrist making you gasp, you slowly turned to face him. “Don’t try and run from me” he smiled sweetly, he truly didn’t understand what he was doing clearly.
“I- I have to go” you shrugged your shoulders shooting him a half smile “gators waiting for me, were going to breakfast” you lied.
“That so?” He smirked as his grip on your arm tightened slightly, you winced as his eyes burned into yours “why did I just see him drive away from your house then?”
Your stomach turned, breath caught in your throat panic filling your body. The realisation hitting you like a truck.
“Y-you were at my house?” It came out barely above a whisper, the smirk spreading across his lips wider making you feel sick.
“Just thought I could come and see you” his hand moved towards your face, you turned away from him quickly but he still managed to brush the stray piece of hair behind your ear “but he was home” he tutted letting go of your arm.
“Don’t, I don’t want you to”
“Too risky? I get it” he scoffs stepping back to give you space “would you rather come to mine?” He was deluded, you couldn’t make it anymore clear that you weren’t interest.
“No, I don’t want to do this, I don’t want you”
You watched as Blake’s jaw tightened, eyes narrowing down on you before grabbing hold of your wrist again.
His grip was tight enough to bruise, you could feel every finger tip digging into your soft skin.
“Blake..” his eyes moved from lingering on your lips up to your eyes “you’re hurting me”
You watched as he laughed, letting go of your arm once again.
“Thought whores liked it rough?” He whispers leaning in close to your ear. You feel a wave of heat wash over you, not in a good way. In a way that made your whole body burn with fear, but not just fear. Anger.
You stepped forward and without thinking you swung your fist towards him, gasping when you realised what you had done. Blake’s head turning to the side with the impact, your stomach turning as you watch the blood trickle from his lip.
“You’re gonna regret that” Blake laughed as he wiped at his lip, smirking as you as he licked the blood off his finger. “It didn’t have the impact you think it did, I like a feisty woman” he smirked.
“Stay the fuck away” you reply, the quiver in your voice giving away how scared you were even with your best front on. “I- I’m telling gator”
“Tell him” Blake scoffed as he stepped back into your space “I can’t wait to tell him what his little whore was up to while he was… hiding? So I heard” he grinned at you, the blood coating his usually white teeth turning your stomach.
“What type of fucking name is Gator” he laughed as he stepped away from you again, shaking his head before walking away.
~
“What ya doin here?” Gators brows were furrowed as you walked into the station, walking towards you to meet you.
You quickly wrap your arms around his waist tightly letting your head rest against his chest.
“Pretty?” He whispered finally wrapping his arms around you, one hand moving to rest against the back of your head. “Ya can’t be here”
“I know, I just wanted to see you” you don’t move, staying firmly in your safe space. “Can you drive me home?”
Gator pulled away from you so he could see you, he could tell something was wrong he just didn’t know what. Way too clingy the last two days, doing a total 360 on how stand offish you’d been.
“Is..” he sighed, not wanting to ask but needing to “is the baby okay?”
Your chest hurt at his words, he clearly could tell something was wrong. He was right but you didn’t know how to explain any of this, that you needed him to take you home right now incase Blake was waiting somewhere for you, if he saw you with Gator he wouldn’t approach you.
“The baby’s fine” you smiled sweetly “I just miss you”
Gator exhaled as he looked down at you, hand running over his face.
“Ya keep scarin me pretty girl” he kissed the top of your head softly “let me get my keys”
Your body instantly felt like something had been lifted, you were safe.
“S’my break now, wanna get somethin ta eat?”
“No” it’s came out quicker and sharper than you expected it to, gators eyebrows raising as he looked at you “I mean, can’t we eat at home?”
“Yeah” gator sighed as he wrapped his arm around you leading you back through the door “as long as yer eatin I don’t care where we eat”
~
You placed the plates down in the sink, stomach turning as you heard gator pulling his jacket back on. He was going back to work, you’d be alone for the next few hours in the house.
“Ya been real quiet today mama” he spoke softly as he walked up behind you, you felt the warmth of his chest pressed up against your back “normally can’t shut ya up” he laughed.
You turned round to face him, letting your hands rest against the warmth of his chest.
“Stay home” you whispered, letting your eyes meet his for a moment “please”
“Can’t, mama” his hand moved to your chin, tipping it so you looked back up at him “would if I could” he placed a soft kiss to your lips before pulling back away to look at you.
You moved one of your hands to the back of his neck pulling him back down to you, lips chasing his again.
“Ya feelin needy today pretty?” He smirked at you, before letting his lips find yours again.
“Yes” you whispered between kisses “stay with me” you deepened the kiss letting your tongue wash over his as he groaned into your mouth. Hands gripping onto your hips as he pulled you forwards into him, pressing his hard length against you.
“Bed” you moaned in between kisses “take me to bed, please”
Gator pulled away from you sighing, eyes blown with lust but knowing if he was late back off lunch again he wouldn’t have a job much longer.
Your big eyes stared at him, lashes fluttering as you silently pleaded with him to stay.
“Gotta go mama, can finish this later” he kissed your forehead softly before stepping back. You reached your arm out to grab him but he was already moving away from you, your heart racing as you watched him get closer to the door.
“Gator”
“Hmm?” He turned to face you as he opened the door. Tell him, fuck just tell him.
“Have a good shift” you smiled sweetly as he tipped his cap towards you.
“Love ya, pretty girl”
And he was gone, leaving you alone in the house. The minute you heard his car leave the drive your phone started to buzz on the counter.
Your stomach turned as you walked towards it, you already knew who it was. You didn’t even need to check, but you did anyway.
UNKNOWN: he’s gone, you home alone?
UNKNOWN: I’m outside, get in the car or I’m coming in
UNKNOWN: don’t freak out, I’ll just take you to get the girls.
Shit, were you over reacting? Was he just trying to be your friend? You knew he’d just got a divorce maybe he felt lonely. Maybe he was just REALLY friendly. He hadn’t really done anything wrong you convinced yourself, you just didn’t like male attention.
YOU: please stop contacting me, I’m not home.
You placed the phone down against the counter, hoping and praying that this was the end of it. He would take your answer and leave you alone, but nothing was ever that easy.
Your body was flooding with fear, you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t leave the house, he’d see you. He’d talk to you, maybe even touch you. The thoughts made you feel dizzy as you looked down at the screen of your phone.
YOU: I feel super sick, think it was the big lunch. I’m sorry to ask but could you leave early to pick up Dollie girl?
🐊: sure can, sweet thing.
You felt the relief wash over you, safe again.
~
“Where was you mama!” Dollie ran towards you on the sofa, guilt washing over you that you weren’t the one to collect her like usual.
You wrap your arms around her as she climbs into your lap, curls hitting your face making you smile.
“Sorry baby” you kissed the top of her head softly, gators hand resting on the top of your head tipping it back so you looked up at him.
“Ya feelin ok? Should we go doctors?” His hand moved to rest against your forehead, eyebrows furrowed.
“No, no it’s just normal” you gestured towards your stomach “stuff”.
“What stuff?” Dollie turned on your lap to look at you, she didn’t miss anything.
“Yer nosey” gator smirked down at her poking his finger against the tip of her nose “go get cleaned up”
You smile at her as she rolls her eyes sassily at her daddy, before going.
“Yer worryin me pretty girl” gator sat down besides you on the sofa. “Has the hospital called yet?”
They had, you’d completely forgot to tell him with your mind being somewhere else lately. A wave of guilt washing over you as you looked at him.
“Y-yeah, they managed to get us in tomorrow” you half smile at him “I’m scared”
“Is that what’s been up?” Gators hand rests against your cheek softly, you nod feeling the tears starting to prickle in your eyes. It wasn’t a lie, the baby had been on your mind a lot but whatever this was happening with Blake had been taking up a lot of space in there. “Listen, tomorrow we could get answers” he smiled letting his thumb swipe away the tears before they fell “baby could have done some growin” he let out a breathy laugh, you could tell he didn’t believe his own words. He was purely trying to make you feel better about it all.
“I hope so” you whisper, gators forehead falling to rest against yours.
“I know so” he whispered pressing his lips softly against yours.
“DADDDDYYYYYY” gator pulled away quickly running up the stairs, you followed behind heart racing by the fear in her voice.
“Doll?” Gator pushed into her room where she stood crying pointing to her bed, gators eyebrows furrowed as he looked between her and the bed. Your heart racing as you watched them.
“Bunny, she’s gone” Dollie cried as she started moving her blankets around her bed, searching for it. Your stomach turned, bunny was always safe in her bed when she left for school. Your chest tightened as you stood froze on the spot, wanting to help but not being able to move.
“S’ok baby” gator pulled Dollie into him, peppering kisses over her face to try and stop the tears from falling. “Daddy will find her”
You watched as gator pulled everything off the bed, waiting in anticipation. Hoping that he’d find the bunny and the thoughts in your head telling you Blake had been in your house to take Dollie’s bunny as a way to get you to him were wrong. You’d been home all day, no way for him to get in here without you knowing. But your blood ran cold at the thought, you could see gator moving, Dollie crying but the room felt silent to you.
It was like everything was moving in slow motion, you shake your head trying to send the thoughts away.
“Oh” gator laughed as he pulled the bunny from under the bed, holding it up towards Dollie “she was hidin” he smiled as Dollie took the bunny from his hands snuggling it close to her.
Relief washing over her little face, a sweet smile replacing it.
“Thank you daddy” she smiled as she wiped her tears against the bunny in her hands.
“See, no need ta panic” he grinned as he turned to face you, smile dropping off his face when he noticed how every bit of colour had drained from your face. “Hey..” he walked over to you resting his hands on your shoulders “what’s up? Ya feelin sick?”
“No” you half smiled before letting your eyes look down at the floor “I just know it’s special to her”
Gator stared down at you, everything in his body screaming that something was going on. Something you weren’t telling him, why weren’t you telling him?
“Jus a bunny, pretty” he smiled giving your shoulders a squeeze “ya need ta stop stressin so much, ain’t good fer the..”
“I know” you quickly cut him off gesturing towards Dollie who was sat on the bed watching you both talk, gator looks over at her exhaling before turning back towards you.
“We need ta tell her, hate havin secrets from her”
“Tomorrow” you smiled “hopefully” as you reached your arm up to stroke his face.
Gators eyes caught sight of your wrist straight away, the bruise starting to bloom against the skin there. His hand moving quickly to catch your arm, stretching it out in front of him as his mouth fell open as he examined it.
You watched as he looked over his shoulder towards Dollie who was now reading her dolls a book sat on her bed, pretending to be a teacher. He dropped your arm before wrapping his arm around you guiding you out of the room.
Your stomach turned as he closed the door behind you both, eyes burning down into you.
“What’s goin on?” The softness in his voice was gone, you could see he was trying to stay calm but you could see the rage in his eyes as he looked at you “well?”
“Bumped it” you shrugged avoiding his eye contact as you let a breathy laugh fall from you. He pulled your arm out towards him once again, pulling the sleeve of your top out of the way so he could see clearly.
“It’s a fuckin handprint!” He shouted, not angry at you but not understanding. “A fuckin big one” Running a hand over his face as he looked down at you. “Ya need ta start talkin”
“You won’t believe me” you mumbled as you pulled your arm away, sleeve pulled down to hide it once again.
“When have I ever not believed ya?” Gators eyes were dark now, no escaping telling him. A sick feeling lingering inside him as all the possibilities raced through his mind.
“Blake..”
“The prick from the cafe?” Gator scoffed but you saw the venom inside it, gators hands balling into fists then flexing back open again. You swear his body was practically trembling with rage. “Tell me it was an accident”
You shake your head slowly, pulling your phone from your pocket and loading up all of the messages including a few new ones you hadn’t yet seen. Gator watched, brows furrowed as you slide the phone into his hands.
UNKNOWN: just wanna taste you
UNKNOWN: make sure you’re at the school tomorrow
UNKNOWN: wear something easy to get off
Gator laughed as he swiped through the messages, your stomach turning as his jaw tensed. Dark eyes looking back up at you. He didn’t find anything funny, this was pure rage.
“How longs this been goin on?” Gator felt like he was having an out of body experience, nothing felt real. Except the anger that was about to overflow from him. He could see the nerves on your face, trying his best to stay calm in the moment so he didn’t scare you.
“A few days”
Gators chest tightened, the thought of you keeping this to yourself. He wanted to grab you, shake you to wake you up.
“Shoulda told me!” He shouted unable to keep his cool, the thought of another man talking to you like that sending the jealousy inside him raging.
“I’m sorry” gator was fighting with his own mind, he wanted to pull you in and hold you but the anger made him want to call you a whore for letting someone else talk to you like that. You were his.
He stepped closer letting his forehead rest against yours, but it wasn’t the sweet way he usually did it. It was more to keep himself grounded, remind himself that you’d done nothing wrong. You could feel his hot breath against your face, it wasn’t really like breathing at this point more like he was panting all over you.
“Fuck, Fuck, fuck” you’d never seen gator like this before, one man having a fight with himself infront of you.
“Fuck!” Gator shouted as he slammed his hands into the wall either side of your head, moving one to grab your chin to pull you to look at him “ya don’t ever not tell me shit again” his tone was sharp, eyes staring down into yours.
“I won’t” you whisper, gator exhales as he kisses your forehead “get in tha car”
“What?”
“Get in tha car” he moved away from you “now”.
You watched as he opened the door to Dollie’s room, Dollie’s eyes meeting his straight away.
“Get in the car baby, mama will strap ya in” Dollie nodded at him, gator turned back towards you.
“I’ll be out in a minute”
~
“What? Why are we here?” You asked as gator pulled up outside of Tara’s house, he didn’t answer you he just opened his car door getting out. “Gator?” You got out of the car following him round to Dollie’s side.
“Get back in” Dollie jumped out of the car jumping up and down.
“Yay! Baby Tommy! When’s my baby coming daddy?” She asked as she clapped her hands together.
“say bye to mama” gator placed a hand on her back ushering her towards Tara’s door, turning to look at you over his shoulder “get in tha car”
You climbed into the car watching through the window as Tara opened the door, anxiety washing over you. God you could really use her right now, you hadn’t even told her about your hospital appointment yet.
“Gator?” She looked at him confused then smiled down at Dollie who was already holding onto Tommys little foot as Tara held him against her hip.
“Need ya ta watch her”
“I’m not your baby sitter gator” she scoffed but opened the door letting Dollie walk inside.
“Thanks”
“What’s going on, is she okay? Is it the..” She gestured towards the car where you sat.
“She’s fine” gator replied as he made his way back over to the car, Tara watched you from the door. Your heart felt heavy, no hello or goodbye.
Gator slammed the door as he got inside the car, turning to face you.
“Let’s go”
~
Your heart was beating rapidly as you pulled into the street, you knew where you were straight away. Blake’s.
“Gator?”
Gator pulled the car to a stop before turning to face you, eyes wild as they met yours.
“I need ya ta knock the door” your eyebrows raised as you looked at him, heart thumping against your chest.
You nodded as you looked past him to Blake’s door, exhaling before stepping out of the car. You looked back at gator once to make sure youd heard him right.
Gator nodded at you, you heard the car door slam when you got about half way to the door. Relief washing over you that he was coming with you, still confused why you needed to be here with him though.
You raised your hand slowly to knock the door, your stomach turning as you lowered your hand again to make sure you were doing the right thing.
“Gator?” You couldnt find him, he was no where to be seen as you stood on Blake’s door step. Anxiety was buzzing through your body but you had to trust him.
You knock the door three times, stomach turning making you feel sick.
“I knew it” Blake smirked as he looked at you, you looked around again still no gator. “Knew you couldn’t stay away”
“Coming in?” He pulled the door further open and your heart was going wild now, all gator told you to do was knock the door so where the fuck was he?
You walked past Blake into the house, leaving him to close the door behind you. The house was empty, his wife had clearly took everything when she left just leaving him with the basics. It felt colder in the house than outside or maybe it was just the fear.
“Wha the-“ Blake said before falling to the floor, spitting blood as you looked down at him. Gator stood over him repeatedly landing punched to his head as he held him down.
You exhaled, maybe with nerves maybe with relief, you weren’t sure. You watched as gator rained punches down onto him until he stopped trying to fight it anymore.
“That’s enough” You spoke softly as you pulled on his arm to get him up.
He threw one final punch leaving Blake a bloody mess on the floor before turning to look at you. Your hands were shaking as you held onto gators arm, his eyes softened as he looked at the way you were biting down on your lip.
“Get a chair” gator said as he closed the front door, grabbing Blake by the ankles dragging him towards the kitchen.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
You pulled a chair out from the table and pushed it into the middle of the room for him, why were you here? Why were you helping gator with whatever this was? Wouldn’t a single punch have been enough to learn him a lesson?
“Gator what the fuck are we doing” you spat out as tears started to fall down your cheeks.
You watched as gator put Blake upright on the chair, his head flopping down against his chest.
“Is he dead?” You asked as panic washed over you.
“No, no baby” gator walked over to you holding your face so you looked at him “jus a few smacks tha’s all” he kissed your forehead.
“Why am I here?” Gator exhaled placing his hands on his hips.
“Ya said I wouldn’t believe ya, want ya ta see how much I believe ya” he stepped forward holding onto your hips now, pulling you close so his forehead rests against yours “wanna show ya id do anythin ta protect ya, mama”
You nod slowly as gator smiles at you, this fucker was a literal psychopath. You were having a baby with a psychopath. Nothing about this situation was normal but this was honestly the calmest you’d seen gator in a while.
“I’d kill fer ya” he pressed a soft kiss to your lips sending a shock through your body.
“Don’t do that”
Gator smirks as he looks down at you, thumb gently brushing against your jaw.
“He’s bleeding”
“Hell be awake soon” gator turned from you, kicking Blake’s leg, you watched as he groaned starting to come around.
“Need ya ta do somethin else pretty girl” your stomach turned at the thought, Blake had been dealt with. What else could there be? Fuck was he about to add another murder to his ever growing list? Did he want you to do it?
“Need ya ta really trust me this time”
“I-okay” you did trust him, stupidly. You’d just about trust anything this man said to you.
Gator kicked Blake’s leg again, harder this time.
You winced as you watched how brutal gator could be, you’d always known he had this side to him fuck he’d killed his child’s mother and her boyfriend but seeing it with your own eyes?
“Hold this” gator held a gun out towards you, your mouth fell open as you looked down at it. “He needs ta know ya can protect ya self”
You shook your head stepping back form him. Shit, he really did want you involved in this.
“I think he knows now” you laughed sarcastically still shaking your head “this is too much Gator! It was a few texts, he touched my leg once he doesn’t deserve to die!”
“Im not always with ya, i know how these situations end pretty.” Gators eyes locking onto yours as he pushed the gun firmly into your hands. “I know how dangerous people like him can be if ya let em”
Your stomach turned with the thought, it wasnt you just imagining it. He wasnt just being over friendly, he was dangerous.
“He touched you?” Gators eyes darken as he looks at you, like the realisation of what you said finally hit him.
“My leg, once.. it could have been an accident” you shrugged as you looked at him, knowing it absolutely wasn’t an accident.
Gator pulled you to stand in front of him, wrapping his arms around you as he positioned the gun in your hands correctly before pointing it towards Blake. He kept his hands firmly over the top of yours to stop your hands shaking, letting his chin rest against your shoulder.
“Don’t worry baby, jus ta scare him” gator whispered into your ear “we aint gonna pull the trigger” he kissed your cheek softly “we should though”
Blake spat blood onto the floor slowly pulling his head up to look at you both. Eyes widening, legs scrambling to try and get up off the chair.
“Shit, fuck!” Blake lifted his hands up into the air as he looked at you, the same thrill as before washing over you again as you saw the fear in his eyes. That same fear he left running through your body the last few days. “Fuck! Please, just put it down”
Gator tskd as he stepped away from you, walking back over towards Blake.
“She’s mine, told ya tha before” gator shook his head as he crouched down so he was eye level with him “an ya still tried” he laughed.
“I- i wont”
“But ya did” gator scoffed “an i warned ya last time, now look wha happened” he grabbed Blake’s face turning him to face you “now she’s gonna shoot ya” he laughed looking over at you, your body running cold as he winked at you.
“Gator..”
“Fuck, man it wasnt without reason!” Blake spluttered, blood still running out his mouth. Eyes flicking back to you every so often “she fuckin, she had me come round when you was gone!” He scoffed but his eyes were filled with fear “I thought she fucking liked me,man!”
Your stomach turned, gators head turning back towards you eyes dark before turning back to Blake.
You watched as he landed another punch, this time to his stomach, then another, then another. Your hands trembled as you stayed in place. Gator sighed before turning to face you, His eyes burning into you as he took the gun from your hands.
“Gator..it’s not wha-“
“Get in tha car”
-Whew guys, twenty six parts now how the hell did that happen from a one shot 🫢 thank you so so so so so much for reading, liking & commenting. I would have gave up such a long time ago without you all spurring me on/ talking to me when I’m throwing a wobbler. I appreciate you all so much. love u. X
summary: your monumental lie catches up to you, and you must do the thing that you've been avoiding like the plague — face your past.
wc: 12.1k (i can't stop w the long ass chapters lol)
warnings/tags: 18+ mdni, ANGST, emotional hurt/comfort, graphic depictions of domestic abuse in this chapter, depictions of a painful labor, (describes the pain, not the process), complicated family dynamics, soft gator, talks of murder (see masterlist for general series warnings)
a/n: this is a HEAVY one, but i'm quite happy with how it turned out. hope you all enjoyyyy.
⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪
You had really done it this time.
It was meant to be a little white lie. You never thought it would catch up to you this quickly.
But now, your boyfriend — no, your fiancé — had seen you sat next to your ex-husband in the middle of the night, chatting about the mother he thought was dead.
“Malcolm.” You shot up as fast as possible, ripping away your hand from where Gator was still holding it.
“Your mom is alive?” Malcolm breathed heavy, taking a step back. The judging look Gator gave from your side hurt your head.
“I-” You began, but you really had no explanation.
Then he said the worst five words imaginable. “I want to meet her.” You blinked hard like that would somehow make any of this make sense. At your silence, Malcolm shook his head. “I’m your fiancé now, and I need to know my future mother-in-law.” You let out something that resembled a laugh, if you squinted.
“We aren’t- My mom’s dead to me, ok? I’m not doing that.” You sputtered, still trying to grapple with the fact that that was even an option.
“You just lied to me about your parents being dead! Don’t you think you owe me a meeting?”
“You lied to him?” Gator squeaked, almost cartoonish. The last thing you needed wa them finally getting along just to berate you. Malcolm kept begging to see your mother, while Gator’s eyebrows were doing all the talking for him. Your heart was beating all too fast already, the sounds of their judgement drowning out any thoughts. You screwed up, you knew that. But, the thought of having to explain anything that went on in that place that you’d dared to call a home for seventeen years wasn’t exactly an inviting idea. Showing him that home? No. Absolutely not. This had already gone too far. He had already seen too much. He wasn’t going to meet your mother. You weren’t going to have to see her again.
Desperate to get some air, you were rushing to the living room, snatching the nearest set of car keys off the holder and slamming the door behind you. The summer breeze hit your skin, slightly cooling the steadily rising temperature in your body. But it wasn’t enough. You could still hear their voices getting closer to the front door, still feeling walls closing in on you.
You leaped into Gator’s pickup, flipped the engine on and pushed down on the gas. But going down the street, the images flashed in your mind. The last time you saw your mother in person. That look on her face, pure disappointment in you while your father screamed the house down. You managing to scramble out the front door, no clothes on your back, no idea what was going to happen next.
Your breaths fell short, your chest squeezed as you attempted to turn out of the Tillman ranch, you could barely feel your arms. It was happening again. You swallowed hard, maneuvering your shaking hands to switch off the engine.
You threw open the glovebox, tossing things around in search of something to breathe into. Just occupy your hands. But what you found instead stilled your entire body in an instant. A small, folded piece of paper, with handwriting you knew.
Because it was yours.
You pulled it out, unfolding the now worn paper. The letter you had written Gator the day you left was just sitting here, in his glovebox. By the way it had been folded and buried in the back, you knew it had been here for a while. You couldn’t help but wonder when he put it there. Even more, why. Did he even know he still had it? Your eyes glanced over the words, not that you needed to. You remembered every one.
I’m sorry, Gator. We had to leave. I don’t feel safe here. Please understand I’m doing this for Eden.
You read it now, and you couldn’t help the sting in your chest. It seemed so cold, only four sentences, but you’d spent an hour trying to find the right words. You tried the ‘I’ll always love you and miss you,’ and pouring out all the good times you’d had together, but you couldn’t finish a single sentence without the tears blocking your vision completely. And you knew if you kept thinking about it, you’d back out of your decision. That would be worse than anything else. So this is what you ended up with. Besides, you would have been lying had you said the other things. You didn’t love him anymore.
But seeing that letter reminded you of something. Gator had always been incredibly stubborn. His way (really his dad’s) was the only way to do something, his opinions were fact, and you could never have a conversation about any of it or he’d shut down immediately. That night, if he had just listened to you about your worries, maybe things could have turned out differently. He didn’t know how to have a discussion.
Kind of like you were acting right now…
You sighed, tucking the paper back into the glovebox. You were going to have to talk to Malcolm, weren’t you?
⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪
You returned to the house a few minutes later to find Gator on the couch, an inch away from dozing off. At the sound of the door shutting, he sat up.
“Hey, I didn’t realize- He wasn’t- Why did you-“ He rambled.
“Gator.” You snapped, cutting him off. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t pushed his silly delusions of your mother and you getting along. That was never going to happen. “I have to go talk to Malcolm.” At his nod, you turned to the stairs. But your body stopped you. With a huff, you glanced back to him. “Don’t go to sleep. I’ll take you to the doctor tomorrow.” With that, you took the dreaded steps up to your own personal hell.
Malcolm was sitting at the edge of the bed, staring daggers into the wall behind you.
“Hey.” You wrung your hands back and forth, like that would someone make this all better. At his lack of response, you took a seat next to him. “I’m- We should talk.” He released stiff exhale in amusement. “Can’t really talk if you’re not talking though.”
It took him a beat, but finally he looked to you. “Why?” A one word question, but the answer wasn’t so simple. Your hands were balling into tight fists in the fabric of your pants, trying to hold onto something. “Is there something wrong with me, that you don’t want me to meet her that badly?”
You actually laughed at that. “Jesus, Malcolm, no.” You shifted, taking a deep exhale. Even though you’d been dating a year, there hadn't been many fights before. And now you had made one of the worst blunders you could. You had to show him that you weren’t the perfect person that he thought you were. The one that you started to believe you could be. And you hated that. “Look, it’s complicated, but it’s not about you. I haven’t seen my mom since I got pregnant.”
He blinked rapidly. “You haven’t seen your mother in fourteen years?”
“Really closer to fifteen.” You chuckled dryly, but you felt your cheeks burning at the way he looked at you. Like you were broken, and never repairable. “She wasn’t exactly happy that her teenage daughter was going to have a baby, but my dad was even worse. So…I moved away.” At least this time, you weren’t lying. Just, leaving some stuff out. Because it was 2am, and you could see Malcolm was ready to curl back into bed, so no, he didn’t need to hear your whole life story.
“Don’t you think…” He shuffled closer, taking your hands into his own. “I mean if it’s been that long, surely she’s forgiven you.” Maybe. But I haven’t forgiven her. For a lot more than that. “And well, she’s family. Don’t you want her there for our wedding?” You weren’t sure if it was that glint in his eyes, but yeah, the thought was kind of nice. Maybe this time you could finally get the wedding you dreamed of once upon a time. Maybe.
If it wasn’t your mother.
But you saw in his face that Malcolm wouldn’t budge and you could just sense that saying no would result in an argument that left you upset, him annoyed, and even wake Eden up. “Ok, Malcolm. I’ll think about it. But you have to give me time.” He sighed, not fully satisfied with your answer but agreeing anyway.
Now you just needed to run out the clock until you left this place.
⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪
As soon as the doctor’s office opened the next day, you sped Gator down there, knowing he’d be able to skip the line just by his name. And needing to know that he wasn’t about to die from whatever stupidity he partook in last night. To no one’s surprise, his nose was broken, but luckily, he didn’t have any serious head injuries. You drove him home as he grumbled about how you should’ve let him sleep, because now he was going to be tired for work. Neither of you acknowledged that the doctor had already known he got into a fight with Bowman, and now the entire town had turned him into a laughing stock. But hey, at least you both were in the same boat.
It was still somewhat early when you returned home so when you found Eden downstairs already, you both froze in your tracks. The moment she laid her eyes on Gator’s pummeled face, her eyes blew wide.
“What…happened to you?” Her voice warbled. You felt sick to your stomach. This is exactly what you were afraid of. That look of terror in Eden’s eyes as she took in her parent — the one that was meant to be indestructible — destroyed.
“Oh, ‘s just the nature of the job. Looks worse than it is.” Gator tried his best to smile just like you had done so many times before. Eden just blinked in shock. “I’m ok, Edie. Swear it on Roy’s grave.”
“Well, he’s in that grave because of said job, yes?” She shakily brought her lips up in an attempt at her own smile.
And your heart dropped then. Gator’s did too. “Eden, no, it was nothin’ like that. Roy was mixed up in-“ You cleared your throat, stopping him. Eden didn’t need to know about the fact that the police, the one group that was meant to protect her, were mixed up in so many illegal activities that no doubt led to Roy’s death. She didn’t need to know that it was her grandfather, and now her father at the head of that.
“Honey,” You stepped forward. “Gator’s just fine, it was a stupid accident and he’s going to be more alert next time, right?” Gator didn’t respond. “Nothing like what happened to Roy is going to happen again.”
Eden rolled her eyes. “Would you lighten up, guys? I was just joking.”
And you all pretended that was the truth.
⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪
Gator entered work the next day with his tail between his legs. He’d skipped the morning routine of staring in the mirror and psyching himself up before stepping into his father’s shoes for the day. Everyone could see right through him anyway. And his own deputy had just publicly beat him to a pulp.
But Bowman wasn’t his deputy. This wasn’t his department. It was all just things that happened to incidentally fall into his lap because of who his father was. He’d tried his hardest to live up to the sheriff’s title in his own way. Because the moment you and Eden came back, he knew he wasn’t going to repeat those same mistakes. No egotistical gunfights, just good old fashioned justice. That shit wasn’t easy to fix when his father’s ghost lingered about the halls of this place, whispering instructions in these deputies’ ears.
As he stepped into the department, some looked at him with snarls, some avoided eye contact, and Bowman laughed. Gator strode across the bullpen, swallowing back everything in him that wanted to start another fight.
“Bowman.”
“Kid.” Bowman responded with a flared out chest.
Gator couldn’t help but chuckle. Maybe he didn’t deserve this title, but he had it, didn’t he? And just like he’d been taught since he was kid, if you had power, you should wield it. “You’re fired.” A few stuttered gasps fell across the room. Bowman blinked. Then, broke into a laugh, just so he could hide the scowl evident in his eyes. Gator simply shifted his feet, not even bothering to look at the man, adjusting his sheriff’s badge. “Y’ have an hour to pack your things.” He turned to the secretary at the front desk. “Can y’ find him a box?” She immediately sprung to her feet, turning down a backroom. With that, Gator swivelled on his heel, stepping down the hall.
“What the fuck?” Bowman finally spat when Gator was halfway down the hall. “I been at this place for twenty fuckin’ years, and y’ fire me? Look at this shit!” He waved his arm out. “Your dad wouldn’t have been half the man he was without me.”
With a smirk, Gator turned, securing his hands to his belt. “Oh, like ya said, I ain’t my dad.”
“I got a family t’ feed!” Bowman barrelled forward, stopping as Gator pressed an open palm to his chest, pushing him back.
“So do I. And I can’t do that goin’ home with my face caved in by someone who’s meant to have my back.” Gator watched Bowman’s fist curl into a ball, and for once, he wasn’t scared. “Hey, Cory?” The deputy shot up from his desk, hands straight at his sides. “Our holdin’ cell’s just beggin’ for a visitor, isn’t it?” Cory nodded so aggressively, Gator was sure he strained a muscle in his neck. “Whadd’ya say Bowman? Y’ could vacation right here. Take a nice break from your lady, for I don’t know…a week, month. Your choice.” Bowman, luckily, made the right decision, unclenching his fist, and turning back to the desk with a scowl. Gator looked to the group of stunned deputies. “Now, ya all know what it means to be a cop in this town. Think about ‘f you’re really willin’ to lose that.”
Nobody said a word as he turned back to his father’s- no, his office, slamming the door behind him. He would never tell anyone, but when he sat down in the leather chair, Gator’s lungs let out a breath he had been holding that entire time. By all means, this should’ve felt like a victory. But he didn’t even care about earning respect or obedience from those damn officers. All he could think about was Eden’s wide eyes when she saw him this morning. She lost respect for him.
The way the weeks unfolded after that, Gator wondered if he ever had it. With either of you. There he was, sitting in the house he built for the two of you, trying to fix it again, but all Eden could do was call Tom or practice her scripts, the tools in her hand just an accessory as Gator did all the work. And as he had to watch his own daughter doing everything to avoid helping him, he also had to watch you, cozying up next to him on the couch as you talked about wedding plans, wrapping your arms around him at the dining table while he complained about how there was no WiFi to reach his boss. The worst was when Gator had to sit with the three of you, as you talked about characters that Gator never knew, and places he would never visit. Still, he clung onto those small moments of Eden asking him to drive her somewhere, or you excited to tell him about running into an old classmate at Dave’s. Maybe if he prayed hard enough to the God he wasn’t even sure he believed in anymore, it would all work out.
Yeah.
Maybe.
⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Your eyes fixed on the clock hanging on the living room wall. Each movement of the hand sent you sinking further and further into the couch, the empty drone of the TV only worsening your boredom. Eden was out with Tom, Gator was at work, and Malcolm was in town, once again in search of the ever-allusive service. Which left you with something you always craved but clearly didn’t know what to do with when you had it — alone time. Today, for the first time in who-knows-how-many years, you’d borrowed one of Eden’s nail polishes and tried it on your toes. Why on Earth was painting your nails so much harder than you remembered? That entertainment lasted for mere minutes, and now you were waiting eagerly for it to dry. You glanced around, looking for some other form of entertainment. Cleaning, you’d considered, but you had just done that the other day so there was literally nothing to reorganize.
And then, with your body literally buzzing for something to happen, the door flew open, making your heart leap out of your chest.
“What the hell were you thinkin’?” Gator voice boomed as Eden entered behind with her head hung low.
You flung up from your spot on the couch, heart racing. “What happened?”
Gator pinched the bridge of his nose, arms thrown out as he walked over to you. You’d never seen him this worked up. “I’m working the night shift when I get a call that somebody broke into the rec centre. Went there thinkin’ it was a crackhead and found two little fourteen year olds makin’ out backstage.”
“Eden!” You jumped out of your seat, anger, fear, annoyance all bubbling in you. Eden was a good kid. Yes, you had your fights but she never had a rebellious streak and you certainly couldn’t fathom her doing something as ridiculous as trying to break into town property. Especially here in Lehigh.
“She and her bright eyed boyfriend picked the lock with a goddamn bobby pin.”
Eden cheeks flushed red, shaking her head. “I-“
You were about to open your mouth to scold her, but it seemed like Gator had it all covered. “No! No arguments. Do you know how dangerous that was? Someone could’ve gotten hurt. You could’ve gotten hurt.”
“But Dad-”
“Don’t you ‘but Dad’ me. I thought you were a trespasser, I was this close to fuckin’ shootin’ you!” Eden went to open her mouth again, but Gator couldn’t stop. He was furious, and honestly, so were you. Every inch of your body used to be consumed with worry for her, but now, it felt like you were able to share the weight, even just temporarily. And watching Gator this passionate was weirdly….attractive. No, not attractive. It was just nice. “You’re…” You watched him search his brain in real time, and a small spark when he finally found it. “You’re grounded! No Tom, no play, nothin’.”
“What? You can’t do that.” Eden spun around to you, hands waving frantically. “Mom! Tell him he can’t-”
“No, Eden. He’s right.”
“Are you kidding me? This is what you two finally agree on? God!”
“Edie…” She stomped her foot down, and stormed up the stairs before Gator could continue and you couldn’t help but remember the tiny tantrums she threw as a child. You missed them, compared to your current issues.
Gator stared at you, mouth hanging open, and shaking his head. “For cryin’ out loud.” He sighed, slumping next to you on the couch with a dramatic puff of breath.
“Kids, huh?”
“I mean, how could she do something so stupid? And now she’s mad at me for gettin’ upset.” You swore if you looked hard enough, you could see tears forming in Gator’s eyes. It finally hit you that this was the first time he was experiencing this. The tears, the fighting, the baseless ‘You’re the worst’s when she got grounded for more than a week. And before you knew it, you were smiling from ear to ear. Gator squinted his eyes, turning to you. “What about this is amusin’ to ya?”
“I-” You chuckled. “I’m sorry, it’s just- I’ve never had anyone else get it.” You admitted, and you saw his face drop then.
“You know, I kind of think she hates me for not bein’ around.” He mumbled, gaze focused on his fingers, which tapped against his knee. Another realization hit you then. That wasn’t anger he was expressing in his weird way, that was hurt.
“Gator,” You sighed. “You know that’s not true.”
“I don’t know, she’s always goin’ off with Tom, or doing stuff for her play. It seems like she doesn’t wanna talk t’ me.”
“Oh.” You tried to fight back the giggle, but it was too late.
“Can y’ stop laughing at me, Dove? It’s startin’ to hurt.” Gator’s cheeks were going red as he spoke.
“Gator, hon, she’s a teenager. I know it sucks but she just needs her own space sometimes.” A lesson that you had struggled with a bit at first. Actually, you were especially struggling with it right now. Because this place that felt like a cage for you, felt like being let out of one for Eden. “That doesn’t mean she doesn’t want you because she really, really does.” Maybe you needed to hear those words as much as he did.
“I guess I just thought, when you came back, it would be like it used to but it feels like she doesn’t care. I ‘member back then, she used to beg me to play dolls with her-“
“And you always refused.” You reminded him. The two of you had very different memories of ‘back then.’
“Yeah, until she’d give me those eyes and do that little pout and the next thing I knew, I was helping Katie the Barbie and Patrick the G.I Joe fight the evil dragon played by Eden or somethin’.” You couldn’t help but smile at the images that flashed in your mind of Gator squeezing into one of Eden’s kiddie chairs so the three of you could have a tea party together. You had pushed those memories far down. “We really shoulda predicted she was gonna like drama, huh?” And you were both chuckling, but it died down the moment he thought about Eden. “Now she’s got her own Patrick and she won’t even tell me about any of it.”
It’s like every moment you spent here found another way of breaking you down. Your mind had wandered to that place so many times over the years. Would it have been different if you stayed? Yes, it would, but not for the better. If anything, if you had stayed, Eden’s relationship with both of you would’ve suffered. You knew what it was like to grow up in a home like that. When parents fought like you two did, it was already bad enough. God forbid anything more happened. At least this way, Eden and Gator could have a positive relationship. And well, you noticed, even though she was upset with you two right now, she actually had that.
“Hey Gator…” He hummed distantly, still lost in his own memories. “You realize she just called you Dad?” His entire body stilled, replaying the conversation in his head. And then, ever so slowly, his lips moved into a wide smile, teeth and all. A small, disbelieving laugh fell out of him.
And it was then, watching the pure joy on his face at such a small action, that you asked yourself a question — If Gator and Eden could repair their relationship, could you and your mother?
⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪
That’s how two days later, you were here, at the worn wooden door of your childhood home.
You reached out, hesitating, before your knuckles fell on the wood in a sharp rap. Your breath stilled as you heard the quiet rustling inside as footsteps got closer to the door before it swung open. And there she was. Your mother. She was smaller than she used to be, the motherly instinct in you suddenly wanting to ask whether she’d been eating well recently. Her hair was freshly straightened, and she even had makeup on. Not the strategically placed concealer that you used to see, but blush, lipstick, and mascara that made her look younger, in a way. Despite her newfound freedom, though, the bags under her eyes remained deep, years of pain still lingering on each dent in her skin.
“Hi, honey.” She smiled. A true joy you stopped witnessing long before you ever left your home. “Look at you.” She exhaled in total disbelief.
“Hey, Mom.” Neither of you broke eye contact. You had a feeling that as she took you in, she was making just as many judgements as you.
“Hi.” Malcolm chimed in, extending a hand. “I’m Malcolm.”
“Right,” You snapped out of your trance. “Mom, this is my fiancé.” You swallowed. That had been the first time you said it out loud, and it was…different than you’d expected. “Malcolm, this is my mother, Marcia.”
“Fiancé?” Your mother’s voice went up at the end, reaching for your hand to see the ring. “Wow. It’s big.” After another minute of awkward silence, she jumped up. “Ope! Look at me, chattin’ your ear off while you’re out there in the night. Come in, come in.” She guided you to the living room, hastily doing a once over of the place, fluffing the cushions, straightening up the coasters before finally sitting across from you and Malcolm. It was a ritual you’d observed a lot when you were younger, an absolute frantic panic washing over her whenever you had visitors. You never expected to be on the receiving end of the forced hospitality though. “So…” She sighed, scanning you up and down like she still couldn’t believe it. “How have you been then?” She was so cheery, you were almost in disbelief. This was not the woman that raised you. It wasn’t that that woman wasn’t friendly, but she sure as hell wasn’t…this. At least not to you.
“I…” You paused, because opening your mouth made the reality of the situation hit you. Fifteen years. The last time you saw her, you were a teenager. Eden wasn’t even born. “I’m doing good, Mom.”
She leaned back, looking away. She clearly wanted more, but how were you meant to give it to her? After all this time, you were meeting a stranger. “So…Gator told me you’re staying out in Chicago. Is it nice there? Always wanted to visit.”
You didn’t say a word about what a lie that was. In your entire life, she had not once wanted to leave Lehigh. Not even that weekend you begged her to chaperone a school trip to Fargo. And because she never went, you didn’t get to go either. But bringing that up was needlessly petty and you knew that. There was no need to stir old grievances up with Malcolm around. So you explained your life there instead. You talked about your job (you not working there any more was a conversation for another time), and she told you how she passed the time at the rec centre because she was able to retire early. And that brought you to the topic you had somehow bit your tongue on for the past forty-minutes.
“My…” You couldn’t help but shift on the couch, your eyes breaking away from your mother. But as you caught sight of an old family photo hanging on the wall, you immediately glanced back. “My daughter, Eden, was acting in a play there.”
Her eyebrows shot up so suddenly and you felt your heart twisting in anticipation for her response. “Eden? That’s a pretty name. Can I see a picture?” Immediately, you leaped across to her couch, pulling out your phone and scrolling through the folder almost exclusively filled with photos of her. Your mother smiled as she took in the collection, and you were trying for your life to read how genuine it was. You hoped, desperately, that she was happy for you. “Where is she tonight?”
“She and Gator went out.” After her grounding, Eden had spent a whole day ignoring Gator, but tempted by an ice-cream outing, she relented. He had agreed to keep her away tonight so you could see how it went with your mother before getting Eden involved.
“Oh, well, why dontcha call them over? I made plenty of food.”
“Oh.” You froze. Tonight was going well so far, but bringing Eden here was a terrifying thought. You knew that girl, and she would be running around digging up things that you had buried even deeper than in the house at the ranch. And to add to that, having Gator over? This was meant to be your night to introduce your mother to your new life, which was Malcolm, not Gator. “Maybe another time, yeah? Think they’re busy.”
“But I, for sure, am hungry.” Malcolm chimed in, trying to shift the conversation.
Your mother cleared her throat and stood up. “Ok, let me go set up the table then.” You moved to stand but she waved you back down. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous. I got it hon.” Sure, it wasn’t ridiculous for a daughter to offer to help with that. What was ridiculous was being twelve years old, forced to set up that same table when your mother was shut off in her room, too hurt or embarrassed to get up and your father demanded food. You even remembered one day that Gator’s family came over for dinner and you’d made your house spotless — perfect — while your mother was two doors down, hiding the black eye on her face.
“You ok, babe?” Malcolm’s hand slipped into yours and you immediately straightened up.
“Yeah, just fine.”
The way tonight was going, maybe, you truly would be.
⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪
Friday night at the ice cream parlor was filled with little kids running around the place on sugar highs and teenagers gossiping about high school lives over cookies and cream. Everything was loud. Except Gator and Eden. The two of them sat in silence, Gator having already finished his cookie dough, while Eden was mixing hers around and not looking Gator in the eye.
“So…” Gator tried, “The house is comin’ along, huh? Y’ think when ya move here, you’ll stay there or at the family home?” All she did was shrug. “That place is nice too, but this one’s better right? ’S the word…fruits of our labor, yeah?”
“Your labor.” Eden corrected, and though he wasn’t delighted with her words, at least she was talking again.
“Y’ don’t like fixin’ the house?” Gator pressed. Was the one thing he could do with his daughter, seriously a bust?
“I mean its nice, but, I don’t know, I’m not exactly handy with a tool.”
“Yeah, but ya can learn! My dad was teachin’ me all that stuff when I was like ten.” Teaching was one word for it.
“I guess…” Gator’s hand clenched tighter on the spoon, and he heard the vague sound of plastic cracking. This was it; “You’re boring, Gator. I can’t believe you thought I’d enjoy this. I don’t want to spend time with you.”
He sighed. There was no point wasting more of her time. “I get it, kid. You got a whole life outside o’ your old man, huh?”
“No! It’s not- When we’re fixing up the house, we’re not actually talking.”
“What are you talkin’ about, I’m always tellin’ you how to do things. You wanna do the whole strong, independent thing like your mom? You gotta learn those things-”
“That! There!” Eden jumped, pointing a wild, accusatory finger that made Gator feel smaller than his dad’s fists ever had. “You’re always doing that. Both of you. You act like nothing’s wrong and then make mean comments or little looks like that.”
“What?” Gator let out a breath, halfway between a laugh and a strangled yell.
“I love Mom, but you’re my parent too. I want to know both of you.” Gator stilled, letting Eden continue on. This was, maybe, the first time he felt his ego completely subside, because he was finally getting to see the real Eden. “I don’t remember Lehigh. The place I was born, and all I have are little flashes. I didn’t learn my grandfather’s name until his funeral! I still don’t my grandmother’s.”
Gator couldn’t help but think about where you were right at this moment. You didn’t want to give Eden that, so maybe he could. “It was Linda. Actually, y’ remind me of her y’know?” Eden’s eyes grew wide, leaning in. The words coming out of Gator’s mouth surprised him, too. The memories had been buried so far back in his mind that he hadn’t even realized it until he spoke it aloud. “She used to be chatty, just like you. Befriended just about everybody she met.” Before Roy beat all the light out of her.
“What happened to her?”
“She…died, when I was thirteen.” Gator tried to keep his tone even, but he was taken right back to the moment he found out the truth.
⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪
23 years old.
The rum slid smooth down Gator’s throat, head buzzing as he sat at the desk in Roy’s office. He was one, three, thirteen drinks in, maybe. He’d lost count. He couldn’t remember why he was in here in the first place. Just that he should’ve never checked that fucking calendar. It was Eden’s birthday today. You were meant to throw a party together. Invite all the first graders over so Eden and her friends could run up and down the ranch and after, the two of you could bitch about the moms and their judgmental looks. Last year, Eden begged for the new pony they’d gotten on the ranch to be there. Gator hadn’t had the heart to tell her it was a foal and would be too big for her by the time her birthday rolled around.
Didn’t matter now, did it? Really, nothing mattered.
The room rattled as Roy stepped in, slamming the door behind him. “The hell are you doin’? I sent y’ in here for a document.”
“Daddy!” Gator threw his hands up. “‘S my birthday!”
“Are ya slow? I said one damn document and you’re in here raiding my liquor.”
Gator didn’t hear a word his father was saying, lost in his own memories. “‘S what I should be hearin’ right now.” He could imagine Eden throwing her hands up, begging him to lift her onto his shoulders. Roy snatched the bottle that Gator’s head was resting on , making his face hit the table with a smack. He just nestled his head into the cold wood like it was a pillow.
“‘Nough o’ this.” Roy yanked the chair out from under Gator and he fell flat on his ass. Again, he barely reacted. “Get up.” Roy kicked his leg. With a defiant puff of breath, he raised himself on swaying feet. He didn’t fall though, because Roy was spinning Gator towards a mirror he kept near his desk. “Fuckin’ look at yourself.” And Gator did — flushed skin, glassy eyes, hair a ruffled mess because you asked him once to leave it out and he never put it back. Even now. “You’re pathetic.” His father’s voice echoed the only thought in his head.
“I’ll stop drinkin’.” He mumbled, though both of them knew he had no intention of honoring that.
“No, Gator.” Roy grasped Gator’s hair, forcing their faces inches apart. “Only pathetic men lose their women. Y’ don’t got no one to blame but yourself.” The sly smile on Roy’s face stung worse than the words. Another reason Gator drank was because once in a blue moon, it gave him the courage to stand up to his Dad, if only a little bit.
Gator leaned in, matching his father’s smirk. “Does that make you twice as pathetic as me?”
Roy’s demeanor dropped. For a moment, he looked something close to upset. But it was replaced instantly with fury. “Your mother didn’t leave me.” He snarled. “I fuckin’ killed her cause she was a useless bitch and I’d gladly do it again.” Gator’s face met the glass of the mirror in a second, hot blood soaking his skin as he collapsed to the ground.
“Get your shit together.” Roy spat, leaving Gator alone, bleeding over the bearskin rug.
He looked, yet again, at his reflection in the shiny shards on the ground. Any sign of the alcohol’s effects had left his face and a deep, red streak leaked down the side of his head. But there wasn’t enough blood he could bleed to drown the revelation. That his mother, the one he spent years resenting for abandoning him, had done no such thing. That you, who he despised for leaving him, again, were right. It wasn’t safe here. He hadn’t kept you safe.
And deep down, he had known it the entire time.
⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪
“I’m sorry, wow- I could never imagine life without Mom.” Eden’s voice brought Gator back to the ice cream parlor, surrounded by kids laughing and having a great time with their parents. Happiness he never really got. But you had given it to Eden, just the way she deserved.
“’S okay, kid. Things happen.”
“Can you please tell me about her instead of how to patch up drywall?” She smiled, and it hit Gator somewhere deep in the chest. She had his mother’s smile. Now that he saw things like that, he couldn’t unsee it, and he would gladly tell Eden all about it. He wanted more nights just like this, for the two of them to actually get to know each other beyond fun facts. To see more of the real and honest Eden. Maybe get some insight into how she’s feeling, so he could stop another community hall incident happening. He remembered when you two were young, you did stupid shit like that because you had no one to talk to. Getting into trouble together felt easier than doing good alone. He never wanted the same for Eden.
An idea came to him. “Why don’t we do this every week? I’d still like to fix up the house, but y’know, we can do that…talkin’ thing over ice cream. After your rehearsals maybe. 'F you're on you're best behavior.”
“Yeah?” She jumped in her seat, kicking her feet at the prospect of getting to be in the play again. How could he take that away from her? “I think I can get behind that.”
Gator’s phone rang from beside him, as if the universe was cruelly protesting the thought. And when he read the name, his heart dropped right to his feet.
⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪
“Marcia!” The spoonful of food you were scooping in to your mouth almost fell out when heard the voice. Gator. Your eyes snapped to your mother, and the calm way she stood up despite Gator’s frantic nature. The pieces fell into place instantly. This was a set up. And if Gator was here did that also mean….Your mother opened the door and behind it, stood the worried sheriff, gun clasped in his hands.
“Gator, honey!” Your mother smiled. “It’s good to see you. What happened to your nose?”
Gator’s eyes drifted from Marcia to you and Malcolm, and then back again.
“I-” He panted, coming down from panicked breaths. “Y’ said there was an emergency. What’s the emergency?” It was only asked half-heartedly, as he caught onto your mother’s plan too.
“Emergency?” She cocked her head to the side, pretending to think. Your heart was pounding with rage at the whole situation. Gator knew you were coming today, and he still fell for your mother’s conveniently planned lie. But worse than that-
He answered the question before you could even ask it. “Oh, for cryin’ out loud, Marcia, my daughter’s in the car.” His nostrils flared as he tucked his gun back in the holster. “Thought you were dyin’ or some shit.”
“Really?” Malcolm mumbled beside you.
“Language, sir.” Your mother reprimanded like that was anything close to the conniving act she’d just committed. “Well,” she shrugged, pretending to be oblivious to the web of tension pulling tight across the room. “Since you’re here, you might as well join us for supper. No use wastin’ all this good food.”
“Mom.” You snapped up, but she was already pushing past Gator and approaching the car. You felt your breath catch in your lungs. This could not seriously be happening. You were barely ready to meet her and now this?
There were now five people cramped together on a dining table that once felt barely big enough for your family of three. Eden never knew anything about your parents, and to your luck, she hadn’t asked since she had a family tree project in elementary school. You just told her to leave that side blank and she had continued on, somehow not questioning you at all. But you couldn’t avoid it anymore, and Eden and Marcia were now conversing like nothing was wrong. The other night, however, had seriously convinced you of the opposite. Girls like Eden didn’t do stupid things like that unless something was bothering her, and you knew that it had to be the confusion of coming to Lehigh and seeing all these new things. So how could she be smiling like she was now?
“So what was Mom like as a kid?”
Your throat felt thick as you watched the slow smile overcome Marcia’s face. “She was…” She chuckled, like fond memories were rushing to her mind. “A firecracker. She used to get into all sorts o’ trouble with this one.” Gator hummed in agreement when she nodded towards him.
“Mom.” You warned.
“Oh, she did, did she?” Eden perked up.
“Absolutely. You know the first time these two met…How old were ya?”
“Ten.” You responded, a knee jerk reaction. That memory always fell at the forefront of your mind.
“Well, our family went to the ranch for the fourth of July barbecue.”
“Ooh, Mom told me about that. Did you go every year? How come you only met Dad when you were ten?” Eden was always asking questions that never had an answer. Sometimes, things just happened. No matter how many ways you could try and rationalize it in your mind, there was no rhyme or reason to who you met, how they acted, or anything else.
“She used to call it fate.” Gator chimed in, and you rolled your eyes at your delusional old self.
“Fate? I didn’t know you believed in that kind of stuff.” Malcolm added and you averted your gaze.
“Well, whatever it was, both of them vanished that day. And obviously, we started panicking cause our babies were missing.” You and Gator shared a silent look then at her word choice. If we were your babies, then why did you treat us like that? “So Roy shuts down the entire barbecue, and we start searching the ranch, and you’ve seen how big that place is.” Eden and Malcolm leaned in, hooked on her every word. “We couldn’t find them for two hours.”
“So, where did you find them?” Eden was practically jumping in her seat, her meal abandoned. God, this wasn’t even that good a story. You could’ve given them the cliff notes by now. You wandered off because your father was yelling at you for eating too many hotdogs, though you’d only had two. Somehow, you’d stumbled upon Gator in the fields, bummed out because he had no one to talk to. You said, “You wanna be friends?” And that was that. You spent the next two hours imagining the farm was some make-believe land where neither of you lived in the families you actually did, playing with the animals and ultimately, ending up at the windmill.
“Roy found them trying to pull off the lid of the water pump and dragged them away. They were so mad they couldn’t keep playing.” At the time, you were furious that you couldn’t see what was under there. But now, you were grateful you never discovered the pile of bodies discarded like rotten crops. And luckily, you didn’t get punished, because that situation had given your father the in with Roy that he had been searching desperately for for years. From then on, he got access to money, power, guns, and you got Gator. “Yeah, their daddies were so scared about them.” Marcia thought back to the memory. “Thomas turned the place upside down for her and she couldn’t even drive down ten minutes for his funeral.” Your hand clenched tightly around your chair, letting the wood dig a dent into your palm. Everything always lead back to that. You weren’t a good daughter, you were disrespectful, it was your mistake that tore the family apart. Your family was broken long before you got pregnant.
Malcolm cleared his throat, trying to pull through the tension. “Well, the way we met was not nearly as exciting as that, but it was nice.” He reached for your free hand across the table. Gator’s tiny snort was not lost on you.
“And how did you meet?” Gator looked you dead in the eye, even though the words were directed at Malcolm.
“I was leading a project at her work. And I saw her and just knew I had to take this woman out.” You’d heard the story a million times and it still made you blush that someone could think of you like that. “It took me a few tries, but she finally said yes to a coffee.”
“Few tries, huh? You know in the force they say it’s best to go with your first instinct.” You bristled at Gator’s words. How dare he act like he have any idea about your relationship?
“I only said no cause I was…” But you trailed off, seeing Eden’s face. The reason you had said no was because you thought Malcolm wouldn’t want to date a single mom, like most men, but you never wanted Eden to think that it was her fault.
“Well, I don’t know what police academy you went to, but officers should think their decisions through so they don’t make life changing mistakes.” Malcolm pulled your hand tighter in his, but kept his eyes focused on Gator’s. They were like two bulls with their horns locked, pushing against each other. In a very fragile china shop.
“I’m cleaning up the table.” You pushed up, reaching for the unfinished plates. You absolutely didn’t give a shit. You piled them up on the counter and delicately slipped your ring off. It looked far too nice compared to the peeled formica that lined the sink. This time, your mother didn’t move to help you as you washed, too engrossed in her conversation with Eden, but you didn’t mind. You just wanted to be away, even if it was only a few steps. That lasted barely a moment as Gator came up behind you.
“Let me help.”
“Yeah, we can help.” Malcolm followed. And so you were sandwiched between your fiancé and your ex-husband, too many hands trying to clean five little plates. And despite your protests, neither of them would move.
“Oh, honey, Eden says you couldn’t find much clothes for her here. I have some of your old stuff in the garage if you want?” You jumped up at your mother’s offer, following them back to the garage.
There was a time, previously, when your father had claim over this space. And though on the outside, he was a meticulous man, in your home, his fire burnt anywhere and everywhere it could take up space. The walls of this garage used to be lined with guns on one end and his fishing gear on the other. A metal working stand stood tall in the middle of the room from when that had been his brief obsession, only to be overshadowed by the drugs and cash given by Roy. Most of your childhood toys rotted in a corner, slowly crushed to their death as more items filled the room. But now, it was…normal. The metalworking stand had remained but the fishing hooks, and better, the guns, were all gone. Boxes were organized on shelves, neat, with labels. Your mother was a woman of memories. She didn’t keep much around her, but you knew that the few items she so carefully chose were there because she kept them close to her heart. But still, far enough away so they wouldn’t sting if she thought about them too often. Honestly, to find that not only your clothes were part of that selection, but that majority of this garage was filled with your stuff, made your stomach twist.
“Here we are.” She grunted, trying to pull a bag out from where it was wedged between an old dollhouse of yours and a spare mattress. It took both of your strength to actually get it out, dust blocking your airways tight enough for you to start coughing up a storm.
As Marcia and Eden started rummaging through the old clothes, something peeping out of a box labelled with your name caught your eye. You don’t know what compelled you, but you were pushing the mattress as far as it would go, before stepping over to pull out the object. And when you saw it, you lost your breath. Of all the things you thought you’d find, it wasn’t this — still in the wooden frame you’d put it in that very night, a picture from yours and Gator’s wedding day. It was you and Gator in the middle, as Nadine and Roy stood on either side. Roy had a palm around your shoulder while Nadine was grasping Gator’s free hand, both with smiles plastered on. One all too confident, one all too fearful, but equally fake. But you and Gator…Your smiles were real and hopeful, neither of you looking in the camera, but instead, directly at each other. Pregnancy glow was not a thing you felt you ever experienced, but looking at this photo, you might have said differently. God, you looked so young. You were so young, despite what you felt at the time.
⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪
17 years old.
The dull yellow light of the bathroom flickered above where you sat on the toilet lid. Outside, the music was too loud, the chatter of the crowd making you feel like you were crushed between their bodies, even in here. You stared down at the new ring on your hand; a small gold wedding band, that sat snug around your finger. You were a Tillman now. Tonight had proven that, with the way you and Gator had been flaunted from table to table, the newest happy couple joining the Tillman line. Roy’s wedding speech had boasted about you two entering this chapter of your life as a new man and woman, and everyone there had treated the wedding like it was always meant to be, despite the circumstances you’d found yourselves in. Truly, you thought the same. You were basically an adult, and you loved Gator. Starting a family here on the ranch was the right decision. Still, maybe it was just the stress of the night, but you needed some space from the function.
A small knock on the door made you shoot up, looking into the mirror to check that your face didn’t give away the speed at which your heart was racing.
“Baby? It’s me.” Gator whispered. You hadn’t realized the tension in your shoulders till you heard his voice, and it released. “Can I come in?” You undid the latch on the lock and let him step into the tiny space. “How’re you goin’? You feelin’ alright?” His hand immediately found your stomach, like the baby could telepathically tell him its needs. You just nodded. “D’you eat enough? Drink water? We’ve been running around for goddamn hours-” You clasped his face between your palms, squeezing his cheeks so he’d shut up, and nodded again. At your affirmation, he smiled. “Good. Then I can do this.” His hands settled on your hips, pulling you into his mouth so he could give you a sweet, slow kiss. When he pulled back, he tucked his head into your collarbone. “Mrs Tillman.” He chuckled like he couldn’t quite believe it. You tried your best to smile, you did, but Gator saw right through it. “What’s wrong with you?” You didn’t even get to open your mouth before he was interrupting. “Don’t start out our marriage with a lie.” At that time, you truly thought he could read all your emotions.
You sighed. “It’s just…none of this is how I thought it would be.” It’s not like marriage had been your only goal in life, but you did have ideas of what a wedding would look like. And it surely wasn’t this. “I feel like everybody’s judging me, and I look so disgusting because my dress doesn’t fit right over my stupid belly, and…” You liked to think you were an adult, but you were a child and it showed. “She didn’t show up.” You finally admitted the problem that had sunk low in your stomach, bubbling up all night. “I…I tried to make it better. I called her. But…”
Gator immediately pulled your face to his, kissing all over it. “Fuck her.” He finally said, retreating from his sweet attack. “And fuck you too.”
You faltered. “Excuse me?”
He spun you around to the mirror, tucking his chin on your shoulder. “How can y’ say y’ look disgusting right now?” Yeah, Nadine had done your makeup, and you were wearing a beautiful dress, but your eyes could focus only on one thing. Gator palms cradled your stomach, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “Y’ look sexy as hell, Mrs Tillman.” The name struck you straight in the chest. Gator noticed the way your eyes drifted off, thinking about the wedding you’d always dreamed of. The cake and dance and kiss were all the same, but you’d secretly imagined that you could get your mother to walk you down the aisle and watch you gain another family’s name, and now, she hadn’t even taken a seat at the family table. “Baby, she’ll come ‘round, ok?”
But that was the thing.
Weren’t you the one that was meant to forgive her? You’d gone to her in a moment of fear, searched for comfort in your mother’s arms, but instead, she turned around and stabbed you in the back. “And till she does, I’m here f’you.” You both looked at your reflections in the mirror, fitting perfectly together, and you couldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach at the thought.
Wait, that wasn’t butterflies.
You turned to Gator, and he had equally wide eyes. “Did it just…” You could only smile and Gator reflected it, a small chuckle falling from his lips. He quickly crouched in front of your belly, placing a palm to it as if that would make the baby kick again. You were smiling from ear to ear watching the sight. And in that moment, you were sure the three of you were going to be perfectly fine.
You and Gator got ripped away from your little moment as they called for pictures. When Roy and Nadine stood on Gator’s side and there was no one on yours, the heartbreak was only punctuated by the photographer asking, “Where’s the bride’s family?”
But as Roy and Nadine moved to fill the frame, Gator just pulled you tighter against him and whispered, “Right here.”
You didn’t even notice the camera flash as you looked into his eyes.
⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪
When you looked at that picture right now, all you felt was seething anger. Because how the hell did your mother have it?
“Eden,” You kept your tone as even as possible, though your blood was pumping through you so hard, you could her it in your head. “Could you please go help Malcolm and Gator with the dishes?”
She noticed the look in your eyes and slipped away simply, not questioning that those five plates would be long cleaned up by now. The minute she was far enough down the hallway, your attention spun to your mother.
“What the hell is this?”
She squinted her eyes, taking in the frame in your waving hand. “Your weddin’ picture, hon.” Christ, you despised the condescending tone she said it in, like it was obvious.
“No, Mom, I know what it is. Why do you have it?”
“What? I can’t have a memento of my daughter’s weddin’?” You blinked at her audacity.
“You weren’t even there.” You chuckled even though nothing about this was even close to funny. “You…how did you get this?”
She looked down, chewing on her lip before admitting the truth. “Roy sent it to your daddy. Wanted to show him what a good life you were living without us.” She said, melancholy dripping from her words like it was all Roy’s fault. Like she had nothing to do with it.
“You kicked me out.”
“Oh, come on, hon. We didn’t kick you out. You left.” She was still trying to put on that sweet midwestern affliction, like that would make the pill go down easier.
“Yeah, because you forced me out. Really, what would Dad have done if I stayed?”
“Don’t start this again.” She rolled her eyes. “He wouldn’t have done- He just wanted you to do the right thing. You were an unmarried teenage girl, he knew what havin’ a baby would make ya look like.”
“No, Mom. It wasn’t just what he thought I looked like, he actually called me a whore, don’tcha remember?” You reflected her sweet little drawl, voice going up at the end. “He said if I disgraced his name by showing everyone what a fuckin’ whore I am, he would…” You trailed off, swallowing at the memory, that same feeling of helplessness washing over you now. It was as if your father was there, gripping Marcia’s shoulders, speaking his words through her mouth as they both lingered over you and laughed.
She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “He loved ya ok? Just cause he was mad about the pregnancy, doesn’t mean he didn’t love you.”
“Mad?” Oh, now you were ready to throw something. And certainly shouting loud enough for everyone else in the house to hear, but you weren’t focused on that right now. “Are you kidding me Mom? He was going to kill me!” She didn’t even protest this time because she knew it was the truth. And she didn’t care. “I told you not to tell him. I told you to keep it between us until I figured it out.”
“I had to tell him, he was your father.” Even now, free from the grasp of your father’s fists, she couldn’t see past this pathetic idea of family obligation. His responsibility, his discipline, he was only protecting you. Sometimes, on very, very bad days, those words would echo through your head and you would ask yourself if she was right. But she wasn’t. Not now and certainly not then.
“And you were meant to be my mother.” You spat. “You didn’t protect me and I still forgave you, you didn’t even show up to my wedding because you still chose Dad and then you fucking keep this like you care?” You slammed the frame down, not even flinching at the sound of the glass shattering for once. “I should’ve never come here.” Before she could get another word in, you were shoving through the tiny pathway into the hall.
“Eden, let’s go.” You stormed past the kitchen and into the living room, not even looking anyone in the eye as you did. You only stopped once you’d exited the house and realized Gator and Malcolm were right behind you. You didn’t want either of the men that got you into this situation in the first place, and made it ten times worse with their pissing contest, in your eye-line till you cooled down. “I said let’s go, Eden.” You seethed through gritted teeth, spinning on your heel and shutting your car door with much more force than necessary. Their overlapping protests disappeared with the wind as you threw the car in reverse and sped down the suburban street, this time, sure you were never coming back.
⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪
So Gator and Malcolm were left stranded at your mother’s front porch, wondering what the next step was.
“I need to…” Malcolm began turning back into the house. Gator’s mouth fell open as he watched Malcolm smile politely when the door opened, acting like nothing was wrong. “Thank you so much for your hospitality ma’am.” Marcia just pressed her lips in a tight line, eyes focused on the street like that would summon your car back. “Maybe you could visit Chicago for our wedding?”
Marcia jumped. “Oh, that would be lovely! Thank you, Malcolm.” She threw her arms around him and Gator tried to hold back his snarl. He imagined you, here, witnessing this scene and taking everything in you not to blow up at them. In fact, you’d be sitting there picking at your fingernails until they bled rather than say anything more. Because that’s how you always were.
Apparently, Gator was doing a bad job at hiding his expressions because as the door shut again and Malcolm turned to him, he raised his eyebrows. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You want a ride home or not?”
Malcolm sighed, before rounding to the passenger side of the pickup truck.
As they drove home, the car stewed in silence. But Gator could only keep his mouth shut for so long when Malcolm was basically kicking his feet along with the low hum of the radio. “Dove’s upset.” He growled, warning Malcolm to reign it in.
Malcolm snorted. “Is that meant to be new information?” Gator grunted in response. “Why do you even call her that anyway?”
“Why did ya invite Marcia to the wedding?” Gator shot back. Malcolm acted like he had any authority over the years of history between you and Gator, just because he was engaged to you. Did that ignorant fuck even see your face? Did he hear a word you said? He was going to kill me. Gator had been broken since the moment he heard those words. Somehow, you’d kept the secret of your father’s violence for nineteen years of your life. It was only two years after Eden was born, when he found your mother in the hospital, half-beaten to death, that you admitted it to him. You couldn’t even visit her because your father was there. Gator always acted like Roy wasn’t as bad, that his father, at least, cared enough to give you two a place to stay and supported your marriage. But the truth was it wasn’t support, it was force, because Roy had been convinced that you were the only one for Gator, and that he’d never find anyone good again.
“You got a good woman, and now you’ve got an opportunity to keep her. Don’t waste it.”
What Gator didn’t know, was that keeping the baby would put your life in danger in that house. And this entire time, he’d been encouraging you to patch things up with your mother, completely unaware that she had basically offered you up as a sacrifice because it was “what was right.” That’s all anyone in this fucking town cared about. What was right, or rather, what looked right. And apparently it wasn’t just people in this town.
“Respectfully, Gator,” Malcolm spat his name with the same cruelty that Roy used to, “I don’t think that’s your business.” He’d known you for over half his life before you slipped away. You were never going to just stop being his business.
“You want her ’n Eden to be happy right?” Gator felt Malcolm’s eyes scan him up and down for a moment, before spotting a nod from the corner of his eye. “All I’m sayin’ is just ask ‘fore you surprise her with that shit. Weddin’s stressful enough.” He paused for a moment. While Malcolm and him were having this brief moment of getting along, maybe he could just make sure this douche didn’t fuck it up the same way Gator did. “And you know…give her some space, tonight. She don’t open up so easy, ‘specially not in front of Eden.”
“Ok, yeah. I can do that.”
⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪
You sat in the driver’s seat, foot placed carefully on the gas, trying to keep everything in you calm for this drive home. But inside, every bit of you was coming loose bit by bit. Why did you even agree to meet your mother? You should’ve known how this would end. That woman was so…insatiable? Relentless? Unbearable? All of the above?
“Mom? You okay?” You weren’t. You hadn’t been for a long time. You’d thought you’d left your childish beliefs of fate, and destiny, and people changing a long time ago, but apparently not. You don’t remember when the wound inside you first opened, but years of push and pull with your family, and misguided hope that something would give broke the same scab open until it stopped trying to heal itself. There was no bandaid — not even stitches — big enough to seal it. That rift would bleed and ooze and bubble forever, and you were just fine with that, because no one else could see it. Just so long as you never caused the same harm to the sweet girl sitting across from you right now with wide, unblinking eyes.
“Eden, baby, I need you to tell me if I ever do anything that hurts you. I never want to but, I- I know sometimes we make mistakes and we don’t even realize, so I need you to tell me and I’ll never do it again. I’m always here for you, ok? No one else. You are my first priority in life, you know that, right?”
Eden’s body stilled at your frantic words, but you couldn’t relax until she gave you a small nod, leaning back in her seat.
When you reached the house, Gator and Malcolm were right behind you and you braced yourself for some comment from Malcolm right there in front of everyone.
“God, your family is so screwed up, I can’t believe I wanted to marry you.”
But with a small nod to Gator, he retreated up the stairs. You went to follow, the night having drained you so much you could sleep until tomorrow evening but Gator stepped forward.
“Dove…”
You held out your hand, and he immediately stopped. You couldn’t start on him, you didn’t have anymore disappointment left in you to spend. “I accepted a long time ago that no one was ever going to fight for me.” You sighed. “But uh, thanks for the reminder. It’s good to know people don’t ever change.”
You trudged up the stairs and curled into bed, not even bothered to change out of your clothes. Once Malcolm was ready for bed, he slipped in next to you and you heard the shuddering breath as he went to speak. “I don’t want to talk about it.” You mumbled, pulling the covers over your head. He complied with your request, and soon enough, his snores were filling the room. So peaceful.
Why was everyone in your life so damn insistent on digging up secrets you’d buried for very good reason? When you were younger, nobody trusted your instincts. “Silly little lamb,” your dad used to say. Well, you’d bled at the hands of those who were meant to protect you enough times to learn your lesson, and still, they viewed you as that lamb. You were apparently ridiculous, or emotional, or just plain wrong no matter what you did. Which is exactly why you needed a fresh start, to become a new person. Because this is what happened when you were stupid enough to think that anyone here would actually make the effort for you. You were allergic to Lehigh and Lehigh was allergic to you. But for now, you would have to pretend you weren’t, for Eden. That’s how it had been, and always would be. You were second choice to everyone, even yourself.
You needed some air, some space. You just…god, you didn’t even know what you needed but it wasn’t in this room. You slipped out of the bed, trying to breathe until you reached the kitchen. This was the only place you could have some space to yourself without waking the house up. You dragged your feet over to the sink, hoping a glass of water would somehow calm you down. With shaking hands, you brought it to your lips, trying to swallow it down, but you couldn’t. The tears started rushing then, hot and sudden. Your body was convulsing with heavy breaths, so you placed the glass down, bracing the kitchen island for stability. You bit your lip, stifling the sound of your sobbing, even though everything in you wanted to scream.
A shuffling sound from the corner of the room made you look up. Gator stood at the opening between the living room and the kitchen, his face lit in the glow of the moonlight. As he began to step over to you, you tried to wipe away your tears and compose yourself.
But the moment his arms wrapped around you, you gave up on the notion that you could pretend. You buried your face into his chest and let your sobs free. Neither of you spoke, but you crumpled into him, your hands fisting into the back of his shirt. You knew your tears were staining the fabric, but now that you had been given the chance to actually let your emotions out, you couldn’t stop. And Gator didn’t seem to mind, rubbing up and down your back, trying to soothe you.
Like he always had.
⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪
17 years old.
Your body felt like it was being split in two. You didn’t know how far into your labor you were, just that everything hurt. The thought that you hadn’t even started pushing yet made your head spin. The contractions were coming in intense wave after wave, nausea squeezing around your stomach. As another one rolled over, you groaned, crumpling into Gator, at the side of the hospital bed. You pulled him in tighter than you needed as he rubbed your back. “This is the worst. I don’t wanna- Please-” You sniffled, words tumbling over each other.
“I know, Dove.” He choked, the whole process clearly making him close to throwing up on you. “I know.”
“I can’t do this, Gator.”
He shushed you gently, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re doin’ so good. Nearly there. Jus’…think about goin’ home with our baby, hm? ‘S all gonna be worth it then.” Although his voice was shaking as he spoke, and you were not willing to hear it.
You pulled out of his arms. “That’s easy for you to say, you’re not the one who’s being ripped open right now!”
He shook his head, jaw tensing. “That’s not-“
“I shouldn’t have done this.” You tears were completely clouding your vision now, kicks of pain cresting every minute. “I want…” You trailed off, sobering for a second. Even like this, you didn’t want to say it.
Gator jumped, finally sensing the opportunity to be useful. “What do you want, baby? What can I get ya?” You shook your head. “Come on, tell me.” He leaned forward, grabbing your arm.
“You can’t-” You pulled it away.
“Try me.” He leaned again, giving you that look that he’d just about burn the world down if you asked him to. You wished with all your heart he could.
“I want my mom!” You sobbed, and Gator’s face dropped completely. He quickly pulled you back into his chest. “I just want my mom.” He didn’t say a word, just held you close as you wailed. Because, even though you hated this, you knew, even then, you were going to love that baby like nothing else. So how could your mother not? What was wrong with you? “You can’t leave like that.” You balled your fists into the back of his shirt, blubbering out your pleas. “I ne-” You hiccuped. “I need you.”
⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪
You thought, after fourteen years, that it would’ve changed, but right now, Gator was the only thing holding you up.
After finally getting back into gators life you realise how he really has just been left alone to rot.
It had always been you, you gator ran to when he was in trouble. You were always the one to patch him up as children the best way you could, you’d held him as teenagers when he felt like no one else in the world cared. You who still covered for him even as adults when he denied doing something he’d actually done, you who knew every secret that the ranch held.
Growing up with gator wasn’t all fun, the smug persona he showed the world wasn’t him. Not the real him, you knew the real him. The soft side to gator that cried, needed to be held through the night sometimes, needed reassurance that he wasn’t his dad.
It wasn’t all you being there for gator, he was right there for you through your hard times too. When you’d have pregnancy scares as a teenager he’d read the results to you, any man that ever talked down on you would be quickly dealt with, a few times he’d hold you through the night when you needed it.
It had always just been you and gator when things went wrong, which is why when you heard gator was in trouble again you were shocked by the silence. He didn’t run to you this time, it seemed like he ran away from you.
You wondered if he was embarrassed about his injuries, but he had to know that everyone had saw them by now. His photos plastered across newspapers, you only had to search his name online to find multiple articles containing the photos.
The photos that kept you up at night, turning your stomach everytime a post about him was shared across social media. Your heart breaking as people shit talked him, most saying justice was served and he had it coming for him. You were glad gator couldn’t see those comments, but you could and that was bad enough.
You tried to visit him in the hospital multiple times, everytime you were told he wasn’t accepting visitors so you left. You waited, you knew he’d been home from the hospital for the last three weeks and he still hadn’t made contact with you. You also knew that he now had his own place, a little ground floor apartment in town that you’d drove past a few times hoping to catch a glimpse of him.
You pull up outside his apartment, you needed to see him, not just to see if he was okay but because you missed your friend. You sat in your seat for a while debating if you should go in, you know gator can be realllll grumpy if you push him to hard with something and he’d made it clear he didn’t want to see you.
You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face as gator opens the door. He looks messy, hair falling loose and you’re sure he’s wearing pj bottoms with his button up shirt that’s buttons are all in the wrong holes, black sunglasses that you guessed was to hide the eye situation.
“Gator! Where have ya been!” You wrap your arms around him as he tenses up before one of his arms rests against your back
You push past him into his place, taking in the mess, wrappers and cans scattered across the room
“Yer livin like a pig” you scoff as you step over the mess towards the sofa as gator follows “don’t ya have anyone to help ya with this?”
“Don’t need help” he sat down on the opposite sofa, hands resting against his thighs
You tut at him, he’d always been messy but this looked like he’d just gave up
“What is that smell?” You placed a hand over your mouth and nose to the block the overwhelming smell of sweat that was in the air “I think it’s you, gator”
You knew the expression on gators face all too well, he was pissed. You were pushing his buttons real hard today, by now he’d usually have put you in your place but for some reason today he seemed to be biting his tongue.
“Ya here just ta moan?” His tone was sharp, smirk placed against your lips. You knew he was still in there
“If it helps get ya back on track, yeah” you replied cheerfully “why haven’t ya contacted me?”
He turned his head towards you now, mouth open like he was going to tell you but in true gator fashion he kept it short and sweet
“Ain’t had nothin ta say”
“After all this? Nothin ya wanna say to me?” You scoffed “ya normally always got somethin to say”
You watched as gator started to smirk before he turned his head back away from you
“Can’t work tha shower” he mumbled and your heart felt like it was about to break, he really had been doing it all alone
You walked down the hallway, opening and closing the doors until you found his surprisingly tidy room. You pulled out some clean boxers for him, aswell as some fresh clothes that actually matched before taking them into the bathroom placing them on the side. You grabbed a towel for him and hung it over the shower rail before grabbing a shower gel and shampoo and placing it on the shelf by the shower for him.
“Okay, come on” you called down the hallway to him as you turned the shower on, letting it run to the right temperature
“Ya okay getting undressed and that?”
“Yeah” he smirked “perv” you slapped at his arm gently
“Okay, the shampoo is the bottle on the right, gel is on the left” you brushed past him leaving the room so he could have his privacy “if ya need me, just shout” you pulled the door shut behind you
“I ain’t a baby” you heard him mumble making you smile, you left him to it and got busy cleaning his apartment, you cleaned and hoovered every room for him to perfection.
You sat down on the sofa as you heard gators footsteps coming down the hallway, you turned to him smug expression on your face
“There he is!” You beamed “almost didn’t recognise ya” you giggled as his face scrunched up
“Ya want me to gel ya hair?” You asked as he sat down on the sofa next to you
“No point” oh he was really feeling sorry for himself
“Don’t ya wanna look ya best for me?” You teased but gator clearly wasn’t in the mood for jokes, his expression staying blank
“Is it bad?” His voice was quiet, not quite a whisper but not much louder “my eyes?”
“I- you have glasses on gator, I can’t see” not letting him know you’d saw the photos, you spent nights lying awake in bed after seeing them
His lifted his hand slowly, pulling them off as he turned to face you. Your heart sank, his beautiful big brown eyes.
“No” you weren’t lying, he’s was healing really well. He was still just as attractive as he’d ever been, he’d still have a line of girls waiting for him if he ever gave them a chance again.
Gator huffed as he put his glasses back on
“Yer a fuckin liar”
“Would I ever lie to ya?” You smirked even though he couldn’t see it “I’m serious gator, it’s not bad”
He didn’t answer, you watched as he bit down on his lip nervously.
“You’d still be able to pull whoever ya wanted” you giggled
“Ya think?” He turned towards you, a smile threatening to appear across his face
“Oh I know, gator” you linked your arm around his shoulder giving him a soft squeeze “yer the most handsome man I’ve ever seen”
You could tell gator felt uncomfortable, but it was your job as a friend to help him bring that confidence back. You weren’t used to seeing him like this, he used to know he could get whoever he wanted and he always took full advantage of that.
You and gator had never as much as kissed, sure you hugged and held each other through hard times but that’s as far as it ever went. You just didn’t see each other that way.
“I’m gonna help ya gator” you sighed as you let your head fall against his shoulder
“Told ya I don’t need help” he replied, stubborn as always
“I can’t leave ya to live like this, it’s me or professional help”
“Fine” gator let his head fall to the side to rest against yours as you smiled, you’d come every day if you had to. You needed to know he was okay, that he wasn’t just rotting away which he clearly had been doing.
“Ya know I love ya” you pulled yourself up to look at him, you’d usually be met by his big eyes looking back at you, it hurt your heart “can’t leave ya like this gator”
You saw gators expression soften, like relief almost that someone still cared. Someone was going to help him, pull him through the rough place he’d found himself.
“I saw this group online, it’s for people who have been through trauma” gators head shooting into your direction, brows raised “I think we should go tomorrow, it’ll be good for you”
“No” gator laughed as you looked at him “ya gotta be jokin”
“I ain’t jokin, just hear me out.. it’s people our age, no oldies or anythin. It’ll do ya some good to make some friends”
“I don’t need no friends” he mumbled “got one already”
You smiled softly, growing up you always got jealous when he found another girl to be friends with. He never dropped you or anything but the thought that someone could take your place terrified you, but they never did.
“Friends who.. have been through similar things to you” you sighed
“Ya think yer gonna find someone who’s been through this shit?” He scoffed
“No, I said similar..” you exhaled, you knew this would be a battle
“And I said no”
“I’ll come with ya!” You tried to convince him
“I said no!” Gator shouted at you
“Okay, fine” you stood up from your seat, walking towards the door “I’ll be back tomorrow”
“ ‘Kay”
You headed back to your car, chest still heaving from having to hold yourself back from fighting with gator.
He wouldn’t have won anyway, because you will still be taking him to the group tomorrow no matter how much he kicked and screamed about it.
Authors Note: Soooo I may make this into a series like I'm doing with my "positions" series and just do the polls like I have been. Thank you so much for the support everyone it means the world to me!!!
Warnings: Mentions throwing up, pregnancy, talks of sex. friends with benefits situation, swearing (my potty mouth strikes again), talks of stretch marks, talks of gaining weight and rounding out, changing body, talks of being a Stay at home mom/girlfriend, possessive Gator, no actual smut but talks of how horny he is for you, possible OOC Gator (Still haven't watch Fargo yet sadly), Giving birth, not proofread
Word Count: 1.5 k
Finding out you're pregnant: Finding out you were pregnant with Gator's baby was terrifying. Gator and you had a complicated relationship, more friends with benefits than dating. He would come over to sleep with you and then spend the night, before leaving for work early the next morning. He did care about you, just not in a normal relationship way. Finding out you were pregnant didn't happen in a normal way. You had felt sick for weeks and chalked it up to being overstressed due to work and the casual sex you and Gator had been having. After yet again puking your guts up in the work bathroom, you finally decide to buy a pregnancy test from the pharmacy. Later that night, when you got home, you took the test. While the test was processing, Gator had come by. He walked straight inside, unlocking the apartment with his spare key. He goes inside, taking his shoes and jacket off, before making his way deeper into the apartment, trying to find you. He finds you sobbing on the bathroom floor with your knees to your chest and the pregnancy on the floor beside you. He sees the test and sees you and freezes, not knowing what to say or do. He never thought he would be a good dad; if anything, he thought he would be just like his father, Roy. But seeing you sobbing on the floor, clearly scared and upset, something changed in him. He knelt and took you into his arms, shushing you gently while stroking your hair. He decided right then and there that no matter if you kept the baby or not, he wanted to be with you and take care of you.
“Shhh, princess, I've got you.” He says while wiping your tears and helping you to bed.
During your pregnancy: The initial shock of the pregnancy would scare Gator shitless. I mean, he was fully on board with taking care of you and being responsible for getting you pregnant. But he was terrified that he would mess it up somehow. You would find him secretly researching the best things to eat during pregnancy or different ways he could make your life a little easier. He would randomly show up at your house with his car full of groceries or pay for you to go get your nails done. He just wanted you to know that you could rely on him. He also decided that he wanted to officially make you his girlfriend. He thought it would be easier to explain that he got his girlfriend pregnant rather than his sneaky link to the town and his father. As your pregnancy progresses, he tries to get you to quit your job and fully become his little housewife.
“Come on, baby, it’ll be good for you and the lil’ one.” He would argue with you
He did, however, enjoy the way your body rounded out as the months passed. He liked how full your tits were and how the small stretch marks had appeared on your hips and ass. He loved to lay his hands on your bump and rub the spot where his baby was growing inside of you. He liked being able to show you off around town, knowing that his baby was clearly inside of you and that he put them there. Being able to claim you around other men made him even more horny for you and your changing body. You would wake up in the middle of the night and catch him putting together baby furniture or researching different types of baby toys and carriers. He was secretly very excited to have a baby with you and couldn't wait for his mini me to be safe and sound in their daddy's arms.
The Birth: Your water broke around 4 in the morning. Gator had been fast asleep with you against his chest before he felt you moving and shaking him awake. He quickly shot out of bed and started to pull on his clothes. He didn't even bother to slick back his hair or grab his vape as he was more focused on grabbing the hospital bags and making sure you were ok. He quickly gets you in the car, almost forgetting to grab the car seat before he climbs in his car and drives as quickly as possible to the hospital. When you get to the hospital, you and Gator wait around for a bit and then finally get put into a room. They tell you to change into a hospital gown, which you do with Gator's help, before lying in the bed and having your IVs attached. Around 6 CM dilated, you decide you want the epidural, so Gator holds your hand and tells you to breathe while they give it to you. After a few hours, you were finally ready to start pushing. Gator stood beside you, holding your hands and talking you through it.
“You're doing so fucking good, baby, holy shit, you're amazing!” He would push your sweaty hair back and let you squeeze his hand so hard he thought you would put him in another cast.
Finally, after what felt like hours, you gave one last final push and then heard the sounds of a baby wailing. Relief flooded Gator and you as you watched them place the baby on your chest, and you and Gator finally got to see your baby. Gator immediately started crying when he saw the baby. He was just in shock and awe at how he could help create something so innocent and special. After he had cut the cord, he watched as you held the baby in your arms. He hesitantly reached out and struck the baby's soft skin. When they took the baby to be cleaned, measured, and weighed, he followed them, not leaving his baby behind with these nurses. When they finally finished, he gladly brought the baby back to you and cuddled up beside you in the bed to cuddle with his little family.
Newborn stage: When you bring the baby home from the hospital, he is very anxious. He lets you rest in bed for a few days after giving birth, making sure you stay still and not letting you lift anything. He gets up to make bottles in the middle of the night when he just wants you to sleep. He picks up the baby and carries them around on his bare chest because he read that skin to skin is good for newborns. He carries the baby to the kitchen and then starts to make the bottle one-handed, trying his best to soothe the fussy baby. He bounces lightly on his feet and hums gently. His hair hadn't been combed in days, and he was only wearing boxers. After he feeds and burps the baby, he soothes them back to sleep and lays them down in their bassinet beside the bed. He crawls back in beside you, trying not to wake you up.
“Mmmmm gator..” You mumble half asleep
“Yeah, princess?” He asks gently, kissing your forehead.
“You're such a good daddy…” You say before falling back asleep. Not knowing that that was all he really needed to hear.
During the day, he stays home with you, taking care of both you and the baby. He luckily gets to have a few weeks off from work, as his dad agreed that he should help take care of his grandson. He gets to lie in bed with you and the baby and cuddle while watching tv. He makes simple meals that you enjoy and gives you vitamins to try and help you get your strength back. He also tries to make you relax by washing your hair in the bathtub or giving you foot massages whenever you ask him. He enjoys watching the baby open their eyes or simply yawn; it all fascinates him. He loves being able to kiss his baby on the forehead and walk around the house with them cradled against his chest. The baby is genuinely so interesting to him. He loves to read those stories even though he knows they can't really understand what he's saying. He also really enjoys watching you be a mother to his baby. He enjoys lying beside you in the bed while you breastfeed and change the baby's diaper. He lets you teach him how to change diapers, and by the second week of the baby's life, he's a pro. He also enjoys all of the cute outfits you had bought for the baby beforehand. Dressing the baby in a cute onesie and gently brushing the baby's tuft of hair. Something else that Gator was enjoying was the attention he was getting from you; you just looked at him like he was the sexiest man alive. He enjoyed walking around with the baby strapped to his chest in the baby carrier, and you watching him from the couch.
“Huh? See something you like, mama?
Thank you so much for reading <3
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Thank you so much @diviniyae for the beautiful dividers <3
summary: you get a letter in the mail that you never thought you would. roy tillman is dead. and you are invited to the funeral. you can't explain why you decide to go, but the next thing you know, you're driving all the way from chicago to your long-forgotten hometown of lehigh. with your teenage daughter eden. forgetting your past isn't so easy when you’re back in it. especially not when faced with your high school sweetheart and father of your child, gator tillman.
wc: 5.7k
warnings/tags: 18+ mdni, second chance romance, ex!husband!gator, dad!gator, implied childhood trauma, misogyny, death/grief, mentions of teen pregnancy and struggles of young parenthood, teenage drinking, vomiting, violence/threatened violence, reader and gator are in their early 30s
a/n: so...i know i said i wouldn't start another series for a while, but i have no self control... this idea has been brewing in my head for a week and im writing this instead of studying whoopsie. i also will be writing the asks in my inbox and that i have said i will write! don't worry! i just need some inspiration xx lmk ur thoughts and i hope we enjoy.
⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪
The letter arrived in the middle of the night.
You never expected it to come. And you definitely hadn’t expected it to sound this…formal. It looked like a wedding invitation. But it wasn’t. It definitely wasn’t.
We regret to inform you that Roy Tillman has passed away. You are invited to the funeral on the 28th June. The ceremony will begin at 1pm at the chapel on the Tillman ranch. After, there will be a reading of his last will and testament which all direct relatives and descendants will attend. Wear formal attire.
Sincerely,
The Tillman Family
It was so impersonal. So cold and strangely commanding. Surely they hadn’t meant to send it to you. But it’s not like they could mess up your address all the way in Chicago. And underneath the print, was a small handwritten message, which made you sure it wasn’t a mistake. You recognized the writing instantly — still the exact same as it had been all those years ago. Far too messy for a grown man, the words crossed out several times.
Yes that means
Hope you
Bring Eden = please.
And it was the tiny little scratched out period that got you. The please tacked onto the end, not as an afterthought, but something thought about way too much.
The next week, that scratched out period was most certainly what got you to take the time off work, kiss goodbye to your boyfriend and make the 900 mile journey across the country with your daughter, Eden. Back to your long forgotten hometown of Lehigh.
You second guessed yourself about 30 times through the drive. Any time you pulled into a gas station, you wondered if you should just use that fuel to turn the car around and settle back to the comfort of your home. But then you looked to Eden, who was practically bouncing in her seat, beyond excited to see the past that you had spent this long trying to hide from her. She had been surprisingly cooperative about this entire thing. You never talked to her about your home, and while you were sure she had distant memories, it had been a long time since you had been in Lehigh. Almost ten years.
The worst moment was on the first night of the trip.
Halfway through the journey, the two of you cramped together on a queen bed in a motel in middle-of-nowhere Minnesota for the night.
“Mom?” She whispered, breaking you from your state of almost slumber. For a fourteen year old kid, she sounded so tiny.
“Yeah, hon?”
You watched her chew on her lip, mulling over a question. “You think they’ll like me?” You heart broke a little at those words.
“Honey!” You smiled as best you could. “Of course they’ll like you.” Truthfully, with your history in this town and the Tillmans, you didn’t know why the two of you were invited back. Even less why you decided to drag her there. But your mind kept focusing on the scratched out period. Please. A word you hadn’t heard from that man’s mouth almost the whole time you had known him. The stupidest, smallest, thing you couldn’t get over. Maybe they didn’t hold the same disdain for Eden that they did for you.
So another eight hours of driving, and you were passing that familiar ‘Welcome to Stark County’ sign — new graffiti scribbled over it but just as old and worn as when you were a teenager.
Eden’s eyes were wide, taking in each and every single building that surrounded her as a you drove down the familiar streets. Rusted windows, wooden shacks, and signs that were long past ancient were all that surrounded you. “Wow. This is…”
“Crappy?” You chuckled. She just breathed in response.
You turned down another street, that held the bar you used to dream of going to when you got older. You chuckled, passing it now. How ready you thought you were to grow up. “So where’s your house?” You were already tense enough without her asking that.
You ignored her question, instead redirecting to the whole reason you were back here. “So the funeral starts in an hour.” You had timed it perfectly so that you wouldn’t have to be here any longer than needed. It seemed silly now — driving two days down to spend a few hours there and drive two days back the very next morning — but at the time it had make perfect sense. This town had a way of sucking you in to places you never expected to be. Even now, the fact that you were here for Roy Tillman’s funeral did not seem real. The idea that one day that Goliath of a man could just…die. “We’ll go to the motel and get ready. What do you want for dinner? I can order in after.”
“Well what’s your favorite restaurant? Why don’t we go there?”
You chuckled. “Eden, this is Lehigh. We’ve got like two diners.”
“So which one’s better?” She chirped, eyes all wide. Your daughter’s blind optimism was truly a well you hoped would never run dry. But it also meant you had to protect her from getting hurt.
“I think we just eat in, huh? It’s easier.” You tried, as gentle as possible. The less she saw of this town the better. You were here for one reason and one reason only. She hummed in agreement but you could read her like a book, and you knew she wasn’t happy. Sure enough, when you glanced over she was picking at her fingernails. A stress habit she’d picked up from you.
Maybe this was all a mistake.
⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪
You were right.
It was all a mistake. Slipping into the back pews of the once-familiar chapel as a reverend began speaking you were thinking of it. Spotting him in the front, ten years older and still exactly the same look, you were sure of it. The reason you had come here. The crossed out period. Gator Tillman. Eden must have sensed your tension at the sight of him, because suddenly you were feeling her hand slip into yours. You took it diligently, squeezing back. She was the one that needed comfort right now. The ceremony, like everything else about the Tillmans was incredibly practical. Focused on image. The reverend said all the typical things about how Roy would be in a better place, and how he was a leader of our community, who’s legacy would be continued by the rest of his bloodline. Most of it at least. You thought. A woman spoke, for the eulogy, who you assumed to be Roy’s next wife that you hadn’t met. She spoke through shaky hands and a few tears about how Roy gave her a home and was a wonderful father to her two lovely daughters. You flinched a little, knowing exactly what that implied. Girls in this family never got 'wonderful fathers.'
Gator didn’t move from his seat at the front, and you didn’t get a view of his face till he got up to carry the coffin, along with several deputies. Some you recognized, like Bowman, but others were faces you weren’t sure you’d ever seen. But Gator. God, after ten years, he’d changed. He was harder, tougher — shoulders broad, muscles more defined even in the neat black button down he was wearing. But he still had the same sullen eyes, filled with far too much he was never meant to see. He didn’t shed a tear as he headed down the hall, not that you expected him to.
Then he laid his eyes on you.
He stopped right there in the middle of the hallway, jaw hanging open as he took you in. And more importantly, Eden. His eyes flicked left and right, like he was memorizing every inch of you and studying anything that changed. You were doing the same. It only lasted a split second, as the deputy behind him stepped forward and he almost fumbled the coffin. A low chorus of murmurs spread through the crowd, noticing his mistake and your cheeks went red. The last thing you needed was attention. Disrupting the Tillmans wasn’t on your agenda.
You lingered quietly at the back of the crowd, hand clasped tight in Eden’s as they lowered the coffin into the grave — the fourth in the line, each with a marble headstone and gold lettering that read the same thing. ‘Sheriff Roy Tillman, beloved husband and father and devoted leader of the community’ and a sheriff’s star symbol on the top. The only difference was the birth and death years.
Your eyes couldn’t help but drift to Gator then. You wondered what he was thinking. How much he was hurting. And at the way he had his eyes fixed on his feet, kicking at a loose pebble, you remembered another time you were here.
⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪
14 years old.
You and Gator had stolen a bottle of vodka from his parents’ liquor cabinet and snuck out to the ranch grounds in the middle of the night. When you had stumbled on the cemetery, he had immediately tucked his tail between his legs and insisted you go home.
“What? Are you scared?” You teased, tugging him forward by the hand.
Back then, you used to be totally mesmerized by the Tillman ranch, wanting to understand everything about their family. Despite knowing them for years, they still felt like this mystery to you. You took in the graves with wide eyes, scanning over the way they were organized. In each corner, families were grouped together — mothers, fathers and children all lined in a row with stone graves. Except at the very front. In a neat line, starting in one corner, the marble headstones stood where each Roy Tillman in the line was buried. Your vision was blurring a bit as you tried to read the text. “Woah.” You giggled, taking another sip of the vodka and recoiling at the taste. It was awful, and yet, you kept drinking, just because Gator had made the suggestion.
“’S where the first-born-sons are.” Gator took the bottle from your hands, taking his own chug and not even flinching.
“So you’ll be buried right about…” You crouched down to measure the size of a headstone with your hands, leaving space for Gator’s father and then landing on an empty space. “Here.” You smirked, looking up to him.
“Yeah, maybe.” He looked down to his feet, and kicked at a loose pebble. It bounced off the ground loosely, coming to a stop in front of your feet.
“Maybe?” You picked up the pebble in one hand, digging a shallow hole where Gator’s future grave would be with your other. A preemptive headstone, just for you. “Whatd’ya mean maybe?”
“Think I might be disrupting a pattern.”
You squinted your eyes, trying to catch up to his cryptic words and focus on burying your pebble, all while trying to stop the way the vodka was making your head spin. “Huh?”
“Don’t know if a Gator fits with the Roys.”
“Wait! Your name’s not actually Roy? I thought Gator was like a nickname. Who names their kid Gator?” Apparently, the alcohol had stopped any sort of awareness you had of other’s emotions because you barely flinched at the way he was chugging down more vodka at your words.
“You’re real fuckin’ nice when you’re drunk.” He rolled his eyes, turning away from you, ready to leave.
“Wait, come on!” You went to stand up, but the sudden movement made your insides twist and before you knew it, you were throwing up to your side. And Gator was laughing.
“Oh, fuck.” You sighed, when you were finally done, stumbling onto your feet behind Gator.
“Ok, I don’t wanna be buried there anymore.” He chuckled, reaching out to grab your arms when you went to fall again.
“And I don’t want to drink anymore.”
⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪
As bad as it was, thinking about that memory made you want to giggle. Because right now, Roy Tillman was being placed six feet under in the spot where you had thrown up all those years ago.
As the funeral wrapped up, slowly, the crowd began to die down. You stayed in your position at the back of the group, even when there was no one near you for miles. This was it. Gator lingered in front of Roy’s grave for a moment, reading over the text. Once again, you felt the itch to know what was running through his mind. No once else seemed to. Roy’s new wife — who you’d come to learn was named Karen — didn’t even look at him as she pulled her daughters out of the cemetery. Eventually, it was just you three. And still you didn’t move.
Finally, he turned around. His hands stayed tucked into his pockets, gaze immediately locking on you. Your hand subconsciously moved to wrap around Eden’s shoulder the closer he got.
“Y’ came.” He said, almost breathless as he approached.
“Yeah. We came.” You nodded.
When his eyes dropped to Eden, and widened, your heart skipped a beat. “Look- Wow, look at you, Edie.” You saw his hands flinch in his pocket, like he wanted to move them. You don’t know what you imagined when you saw him again, but this was certainly unceremonious. That tiny hand movement though, indicated that Gator wanted something more. Crossed out period. Please. “Y’ must be breakin’ all the boys’ hearts.”
Eden smiled politely, almost reserved.“We’re sorry for your loss, Gator.” He swallowed thickly at her words. Not the condolences. She called him Gator.
“Yeah,” He scratched the back of his head. “But hey, he went out like he woulda wanted. Shootout. Blood, glory. You know, the criminal was even-“ You cleared your throat, not so subtly side eyeing Eden, who was blinking as she processed the imagery. She may not have been a little kid anymore, but she didn’t need to hear the graphic details of a Stark County shootout. The ridiculous amount of normalized violence was part of the reason you’d left. “Right. Sorry. I- Thank you.” You fell into a silence. Nine years. Nine years since you’d been back home. Since you’d seen him. And he’d seen Eden. None of you knew what to say to each other. “So how was your flight?”
“We drove.” Eden explained, not put off by the fact that all Gator could do was make small talk. You could barely afford the time off work, let alone a plane to come here.
“So y’ finally got your license, huh?” You felt a pang in your chest at Gator’s comment. It used to be a running joke between the two of you that you would never learn to drive. It used to be funny that you didn’t have that independence.
“Gator!” A voice called out, and you all shifted your attention towards it. Karen stood with her arms crossed. “They want you for the will reading.”
Gator nodded. “Be there in a second.” For some reason, that made you stutter a little. You thought Eden would get at least a little more time.
“We better get going then.” You sighed.
“The will readin’?” He said it like it was obvious you should be there, and you simply furrowed your brows. “Didn’t you read the letter? Direct descendants. That means Eden.” You glanced to your daughter, who was simply studying Gator with intent focus, like he was a zoo animal. This wasn’t a good idea. She didn’t need to get all tangled up into the Tillman house, when she wasn’t even going to be on the will. She didn’t need false hope that this was her family.
“Gator, we haven’t been here in years, and frankly,” You lowered your voice, as if she wasn’t entirely still too close, “I can’t imagine your father even remembering Eden.”
Gator snorted. “Oh, he remembers her. Remembered.” He breathed, and now you were feeling that same twisting in your chest that you got when you saw this lonely side of him. “Least just come so I can spend some time with you guys. Deserve to be with my daughter, don’t I?” His hands twisted again in his pocket, this time balling into tight fists. Daughter. Obviously, by blood, Eden was very much Gator’s daughter. It’s not like he was a purposefully absent father either. He still called every once in a while, and you knew he saw her on your social media posts, but you weren’t together. Being states apart meant that Eden and Gator were practically strangers. Eden, in your head, was yours, however wrong that was. But you looked at her, as she basically lit up at the word ‘daughter’, and knew another hour couldn’t exactly hurt. That was why you had brought her here, wasn’t it?
“Ok.” You nodded.
⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪
The entire family was gathered in Roy Tillman’s study — Roy’s wife and daughters, Roy’s brother, John, and his children, as well as some aunts and uncles — listening as the solicitor read a grandiose letter Roy left about legacy, and his death. You had tried to hide yourself in the back of the crowd, but the moment Gator entered the room — somewhere you had never been allowed to go before — everyone had parted a way for you all to stand at the very front.
So reluctantly, you shrugged your way forward, a hand tentatively on Eden’s shoulder the entire time. You tried not to look around, as your once curious mind would’ve wanted to. These places, just hidden out of your view, were all you ever wanted to know. Until you actually got to know them. Returning inside this house made your skin feel like it was on fire, burning with decades of memories that still pumped through your veins no matter how much you tried to erase them. Especially with Gator, the star of so many of those memories standing right in front of you.
The solicitor went on about Roy’s assets, like the house, the millions of dollars in drug money (he didn’t say it was drug money but you knew), livestock and everything else associated with the ranch. You wondered how everything would be distributed. Most likely all of it went to Gator, seeing as he was the first born son, but you were also well aware of their deeply complicated relationship. And just as you were wondering that, the solicitor said words that shook you to your core. “The Tillman ranch and all property associated with it, including the family house, I bequeath in its entirety to my granddaughter Eden Tillman.” Your heart leapt forward. Your stomach churned. You were sure this was some strange daydream, but the shocked gasps that rolled around the room told you otherwise. You looked to Gator, who was just staring at you with equally wide eyes.
“What?” Karen laughed. “Is there some sort of mistake?”
“I was there when Roy signed it, this is what he wants.” The solicitor smiled politely, continuing on as if this was normal. “Since she’s not 18 yet, she doesn’t have control of the property, but she is to live in this home until then.” You let out a sound that sounded halfway between a laugh and a scream.
“What?” Karen repeated again, blinking. “Gator, this is wrong. Tell them this is wrong!” Her eyes looked around the room, settling on Eden — clear who she was, simply because Karen didn’t recognize her. You wrapped your arms around Eden, pulling her against you. Just by the look in her eyes, you knew Karen was going insane. Though you couldn’t exactly blame her. “Who even are you?” She stormed towards Eden and Gator immediately stepped in front.
“Karen.” He said, a warning that sent a shiver down your spine.
“No, this is ridiculous.” John chimed in. “Are you- This place belonged to my father, then my brother. It ain’t goin’ to the unwanted kid of the unwanted son-“ In an instant, he was pushed against the wall, Gator’s fists balled into his shirt.
“You better watch your mouth there.” He smirked.
Your arms pulled Eden even tighter to your front, and you could feel the way her breaths were heaving at everything going on. “Hey, it’s ok, honey.” You whispered, trying to keep your voice steady. You’d barely spent an hour here and already, Eden was being exposed to everything she shouldn’t. The problem was, your own feet were glued to the floor, trying to understand what on earth was going on. Roy leaving the property to Eden? He hated you. You left this place in the middle of the night, Eden curled asleep on your shoulder, just like Nadine and Linda had before you. There was no chance that Roy had taken kindly to that, nor did you understand why he would leave this entire place to a granddaughter he had barely had a conversation with when you were here. Frankly, the idea that he left anything to a woman at all didn’t make sense to you.
“If Dad says this is what he wants, then this is what he wants.” Gator dropped John down like it was nothing. “‘F you have a problem with that, y’ take it up with me.” You knew what that was implying. Don’t have a problem, because taking it up with Gator meant one thing: a fight.
Karen scoffed. “No. This is some sorta mistake I’m sure of it. We’re contestin’ this.”
You finally found the courage to speak. “Please. We’re going home.”
“Mom-“ You heard a little squeak as you pushed Eden towards the door.
“Actually,” The solicitor spoke. “If the will is being contested, we’re going to have to ask you stick around till it’s sorted.” You froze in your place.
“What? How long will that take?” You already knew the answer wasn’t going to be good.
“Months, probably.”
And you looked to Gator again, as if he could fix this. “Karen, we don’t want the ranch. Just take it.”
“Mom-“
“If Eden wants to inherit the ranch, she has to live here.” The solicitor said again, and you lost it then.
“So, our options are to stay here for four months or four years?” What kind of twisted mind games was Roy playing? Since when had he been this desperate to keep Eden around? “I’m taking her home.” You took another step.
“Don’t ya think that’s Edie’s choice?” Gator chimed in.
“Legally, it is.” The solicitor added.
“I’m her mother! She’s a child! We have a life in Chicago, we aren’t just going to…abandon it for this haunted farm.”
Gator began protesting that it wasn’t just your decision. The solicitor kept explaining how important it was that you follow legal proceedings. Karen, John and everyone else was still complaining about how wrong the situation was. Voices continued to overlap, and you could feel your pulse in your throat. You should have never come here. Never. Why did you possibly think you could visit without troubles? No, Stark County never let you just leave. There were too many strings, too many webs weaved around you, pulling you down. And now, they were trying to trap you daughter too.
“I want to stay!” Eden yelled, making everyone in the room freeze. You blinked, trying to process her words. “Please.” She turned to you with wide eyes.
“Hon, you have school. And Malcolm and-“
“It’s summer, right?” Gator stepped forward, slowly approaching the two of you. “Jus’- Why doesn’t she stay for the summer?” He looked to you with the exact same eyes your daughter was giving you now. Under their gazes, you felt like you were melting — soft, pleading, desperate. It reminded you of when you told Gator you were pregnant in the first place. All the plans you made. Your stomach sunk. You weren’t changing either of their minds. “We’ll stay for a bit.”
Karen snarled. “We’re still contestin’.”
Good. You thought. Maybe that would get you out of here quicker.
Either way, you weren’t staying in this town for long.
⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪
That night, you and Eden found yourselves in the guest room of the Tillman house.
Gator had heard you were staying at a motel and insisted you stay at the ranch instead. You tried to protest but he would simply not let you change your mind. “Edie should see the place she owns right?”
You laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, head spinning. How did you possibly end up here? The place still smelt the same — wood varnish, fresh baked cookies clashing against each other to burn your nose. Eden, despite her entire life changing in just one afternoon, was somehow sleeping soundly next to you. She was so excited to know more about her family. She didn’t know the half of what happened on these grounds. That she, somehow, now owned. God, you couldn’t sleep. You needed to talk to someone.
And as if your mind could be read from halfway across the country, your phone rang out and you already knew who it was. Malcolm, your boyfriend. You snatched it up, slipping out of the room. Everyone else was asleep by now, so you slowly snuck down the steps, wary not to wake anyone up.
“Hey babe.” Even though you couldn’t see him, you could hear his smile and it already calmed your body. “I’m really sorry I couldn’t answer your call earlier. Work.” When was it not? “So how’s the hometown? How are your parents?” You flinched slightly at the question. He knew you were in Lehigh for Roy’s funeral, but he had just assumed you were staying with your parents. And you knew if you corrected him, that would just lead to a line of questioning that you didn’t want to go down. It was something you’d wanted to forget about since the moment you stepped out of that home. By the time you were in Chicago, you barely thought about it yourself.
“Um, listen. Things got…complicated here.”
He cleared his throat. “Complicated? Is everything ok with Eden?” Something you loved about Malcolm was how much he cared about Eden. With him, you were finally getting the family you’d always dreamed of. You explained the situation to him, and even though you’d been repeating it in your head all afternoon, you still couldn’t believe it. Maybe, when you woke up tomorrow, whatever this sick nightmare was would be gone, and you’d be back to normal.
“Jesus…I- Wow.” Malcolm sputtered.
“Yeah.”
“So…a whole summer without you.”
“Oh, no. This place barely has WiFi, I’m sure she’ll get sick of it a lot quicker.” You giggled, but it wasn’t a joke. You prayed she’d get exhausted with this town’s antiquated ways before any of it could hurt her.
Then, suddenly, you heard a clattering sound behind you. Your heart skipped a beat, because you knew exactly where it came from. Roy’s office. Your body reacted before your brain, as if you’d been caught doing something wrong by being up so late. That Roy was going to scold you like your father did. And then you remembered that both of them were very, very dead.
“Shit.” You heard the curse, and instantly recognized who was actually in Roy’s office.
“Listen, babe, I’m gonna go. Talk to you tomorrow, yeah?” This conversation wasn’t even close to finish, but right now, you couldn’t have it properly in this house.
“Ok, bye. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
There was a cough from Roy’s office right when you said it.
You sighed, following the noise. Just as you’d suspected, there, in the corner of the room, sorting through a liquor cabinet, was Gator. The moment you crossed into the space, he turned to you. “What are you doin’ up?” You rolled your eyes, because both of you knew he’d been eavesdropping on your entire call. “You really think she’s gonna get sick of me that quick?” He said me, not the ranch, like the two were even close to the same thing. You never got sick of him. You got sick of everyone else in the family. You got sick of being treated like you were disposable just because you were a woman, and you couldn’t have Eden growing up the same. But if Gator was anything like the man you knew all those years ago, then Eden would never be sick of him either. And that scared you. You didn’t say any of that, though. You just shook your head.
Gator breathed out in relief, turning back to liquor cabinet and pulling out a bottle of vodka. “Was gonna go for a walk. You wanna join me?” He dangled up the bottle like a little carrot on a stick.
And you followed it.
⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪
“You look good in that, by the way.” Gator indicated to the raggedy, old dress that you had on for the night as you strolled through the grounds, dirt crushing under your bare feet. It fit you wrong in every place and you felt uncomfortable being in something so restrictive, but Gator had insisted that he would help you guys get all your stuff from the motel tomorrow.
“What, your mom’s old night dress?” You’d slept over at his house plenty of times back in the day, and he used to just lend you his own clothes to sleep in. But that didn’t exactly seem appropriate any more. So here you were.
“Hell yeah, you look all…put together and mom-like.” He said with a teasing smirk.
“You should just call me old.” You sighed, snatching the vodka bottle from his hands so you could take a sip. It was still awful. You were still drinking it.
“If you’re old, then I am too.” He turned sharply to his left and you already knew where he was leading you. “Shit, man. Nine years.” The vodka bottle was back in his hands then. “Eden…I can’t believe she’s so old now.” He ran a hand over his face. Sometimes, it hurt you that you had kept Gator away from her for so long. But he never wanted to leave Lehigh, and you never wanted to come back. And you knew the fate that would have befallen her if you stayed. You didn’t want her growing up like you did.
“She’s really excited to get to know you again.” You admitted.
“Yeah, me too.”
You could tell since you saw that crossed out period. Which is why a thought had been gnawing at the back of your head since the will reading. “Did you know about the will? Is that why you invited us?”
Gator snorted. “Yeah, I suspected he was going to give his most prized possession to the missin’ daughter of the son he hated in the first place.” Almost the exact same words John had used earlier that day that made Gator so defensive, he was repeating himself. And it was true. That’s why none of this made any sense. “I invited you cause like- That’s Edie’s family. She deserves to be with her family when they die.” Then, slightly quieter, he mumbled. “She deserves to be with her family.”
You didn’t respond to that one. He knew why you left, you couldn’t have made it any more obvious. Five years you’d spent trying to make it work on this ranch. Five years, you pretend this wasn’t just another version of the home that you’d escaped.
His boots crunched against the dirt, skidding to a halt and you knew where you were. Part of you didn’t want to look up and actually see it. Part of you knew you didn’t have a choice.
You raised your eyes to meet the familiar white structure. It was just as you remembered it — a small, wooden, two-story with the red gable roof. The picture of Americana that you were once beyond excited to live in with your husband and child. The only difference was that now, all the doors and windows were shut off with wood panels, and you could see the way the midwestern weather had taken a toll on the place over the years. Gator had spent a whole year building it, when he discovered that you were pregnant with Eden. In his words, sure, it had all happened way earlier than expected, but it just meant you got to start living the life you’d always dreamed of that much sooner. Be a family. You believed him back then. You were a naive teenager.
“Been thinkin’ about openin’ this place back up. You and Eden could stay here for the summer. Get your old rooms back.” You had to admit, it would feel much better than staying cramped in that guest room, weathering Karen’s constant glares that you’d already lost count of. “Y’ think…Edie might wanna do that with me?” He looked down at his feet again. “Like, we could fix her up together?”
You froze. This was…new. Gator wanted your daughter to help him with construction work. “Isn’t that ‘man work’?” You rolled your eyes as you said it, but that was exactly what Roy had barked at you when you offered to help them build this thing in the first place. Gator had shrugged his shoulders and insisted it wasn’t safe anyways with the baby in your stomach.
“Start thinkin’ about decorations with Nadine, why don’t ya?”
Gator sighed at your comment now, taking another chug of the vodka. “Just thought it’d be a good way for us to like…bond and shit.”
You, despite yourself, glanced at him through the corner of your eye, still chugging down the vodka. Gator Tillman, asking about doing a labor project with his daughter so they could bond. You truly must have entered an alternate dimension. This whole day felt like some strange fever dream. But you were stuck in it, and there was no going back. The next few months, you’d have to put up with Lehigh. Forget your past, and be there for your daughter.
“Ok, Gator. But if you want to be a good dad to Eden, we’re going to need some ground rules.”
I wasn't supposed to be holding Steve Harrington's hands. That thought hit me first. The second was that he wasn't letting go. The third was that I didn't want him to. His fingers were warm, slightly rough, and completely steady, like this didn't affect him at all. Like this was normal. It wasn't. Not for me. "Relax," he murmured under his breath, barely glancing at me. "You look like you're about to pass out."
"I'm not," I whispered quickly. "You are." "I'm not." Steve finally looked down at me, one eyebrow lifting slightly. "You're gripping my hand like I'm about to disappear." My heart jumped. I loosened my grip immediately. "I'm not." "You are," he said again, softer this time. Almost amused. My face burned. This was a mistake. A huge mistake. And somehow... I still didn't pull away. Steve stepped a little closer.
Too close. Close enough that I could feel the warmth of him through his jacket. "Just act natural," he said quietly. "I am acting natural." "You're staring at the floor again." "I like the floor." That earned me a small laugh. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just enough to make my stomach flip. "You're terrible at this," he added. "You asked me to do this." I shot back. "And you said yes." "I was manipulated." Steve smiled slightly. "That's not what happened." "It is."
"You just can't say no to me." I looked up at him then. "That is not true." "Sure," he said, clearly not believing me. And for some reason, that made me want to prove him wrong. Except I didn't. Because... maybe he wasn't completely wrong. And that was worse. A lot worse. Because it meant this wasn't just fake. At least not for me. When his arm slipped around my waist, my brain stopped working. Not completely. Just enough that everything felt... slower. Quieter. Like the rest of the room faded into the background, and all I could focus on was the way his hand rested against my side.
Warm. Solid. Like it belonged there. Like this wasn't the first time he'd done this. Like it wouldn't be the last. My breath caught for half a second. I hoped he didn't notice. I had a feeling he would if he looked. And I definitely didn't want him looking. Because if he did, he'd probably see it. The way this was affecting me. The way it shouldn't be affecting me. I stayed still. Careful. Too aware of everything. Where his hand was. How close he was. How easy it would be to lean just slightly closer. To let my head tilt toward him. To let this feel real. I didn't. Obviously. But the thought was there.
Lingering. And that was the problem. Because this wasn't real. It wasn't supposed to be. And I needed to remember that. Before I forgot.. "Hey, Harrington." That voice came from behind us. Steve didn't move right away. But I felt the way his hand tightened just around my waist. The way his hand shifted like he was grounding himself. Or maybe grounding me. "Don't freak out," he muttered quietly. "I'm not freaking out." "You're about to." "I'm literally not—" "Just stay close." Stay close. Like that wasn't already the problem.
Steve turned then, pulling me gently with him. And suddenly, I wasn't just standing next to him anymore. I was with him. His arm stayed around my waist. Firm now. Not unsure. Not hesitant. Confidence. Like this was real. Like we were real. My heart did something very inconvenient. The person in front of us looked between the two of us. And I didn't need to look to know what they were seeing. Steve Harrington. And a girl pressed just slightly too close to his side. "Didn't know you were seeing someone," they said. Steve shrugged casually. "Yeah. Just haven't mentioned it." Like it was nothing.
Like it wasn't making my heart race out of my chest. Their eyes shifted to me. And suddenly I was very aware of everything again. How I was standing. Where my hands were. What I was supposed to do. Act naturally. Right. "Hi," I said, trying to sound normal. It came out quieter than I meant to. Steve's thumb brushed lightly against my side. Just once. Like a reminder. Like he was telling me, I was doing fine. Or maybe telling me to relax. It didn't help. "How long?" they asked. Steve didn't answer right away. Instead. He looked at me. Just for a second. But it was enough.
His expression softened. Like something about this about me was real to him. "Long enough," he said. My stomach flipped. Hard. This was fake. This was fake. So why did that sound like something more? The conversation didn't last much longer. A few more questions. A few more looks. And then they left. Just like that. And suddenly. It was over. Steve didn't move right away. His arm is still around my waist. His hand was still resting there. Like he forgot. Or maybe... like he didn't want to. I didn't say anything. Didn't breathe. Because if I did, this would end. And for some reason... I didn't want it to.
Then he stepped back. And just like that. The space between us came back. Cold. Empty. Too noticeable. Steve rubbed the back of his neck. "Thanks." Just think. I nodded. "Yeah. Of course." My voice sounded normal. Which was good. Because I didn't feel normal. Not even a little. "That... worked," he added. "Yeah." "Sorry if that was—" "It's fine," I cut him off quickly. Too quickly. He noticed. Of course he did. Steve always noticed things like that. There was a pause. The kind that stretched a little too long. The kind that made everything feel a little too real.
"Well," he said finally. "I owe you one." I shook my head. "You don't." "I do." Steve smiled slightly. "Guess we'll see." And somehow. That felt like the beginning of something. Not the end. I should've left it there. Just nodded, maybe said goodbye, and walked away like a normal person. Like this was over. Like, this hadn't just completely messed with my head. But I didn't move. And apparently... Neither did he. The space between us wasn't that big. It should've been. It should've felt bigger after he stepped back. After his hand left my waist.
After that, everything went back to normal. Except it didn't. It felt... noticeable. Too noticeable. Like something had been there, and now it wasn't. And I didn't like that. Steve shifted slightly, like he was about to say something. Then stopped. Then I tried again. "So... uh—" I looked up at him. "Yeah?" he hesitated. Which felt weird. Because Steve didn't hesitate. Not like this. Not over something small. "Nothing," he said quickly, shaking his head a little. "I just—" He stopped again. I frowned lightly. "You just what?" "Forget it.
That doesn't make me want to forget it," I said. That earned me a small smile. "Yeah, I figured." There was a pause. Not awkward. Just... full. Like something was sitting right there between us, and neither of us wanted to be the one to say it out loud. I crossed my arms slightly, tilting my head. "You're acting weird." "I'm not acting weird." "You are." "I'm really not." "You just said 'I just—' and they didn't finish your sentence." Steve huffed out a quiet laugh. "Okay, yeah, that's fair." I raised an eyebrow. "So?" "So what?" "What were you going to say?" He looked at me for a second. Longer than necessary.
Like he was debating something. Then he shrugged. "I was just gonna say you did good." I blinked. "That's it?" "That's it." I narrowed my eyes slightly. "You paused for like ten seconds for that?" "I was choosing my words carefully." "You said two words." I tried not to smile. Failed. "You did well. Steve grinned. "Hey, don't make fun of me. I'm trying here." There it was again. That... something. That almost teasing, almost soft tone he didn't use with everyone. Just enough to make it feel different. Just enough to make me notice. Which I really needed to stop doing.
"You weren't that bad either," I said. "Wow." "What?" "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." "That's not true." "It is." "It's really not." Steve stepped a little closer again. Not as close as before. But close enough. "Name one nicer thing." I opened my mouth. Then I closed it. Then frowned. "...okay, maybe that's fair." He smiled like he had won something. "I knew it." "Don't get used to it." "Too late." Another pause. This one is quiet. Softer. Less teasing. The one he had been holding. Like it is still remembered. Like it still felt warm. Which was ridiculous. and also very annoying. "So," I said, mostly to fill the silence. "So," Steve echoed. Neither of us moved. Again. "You can go now," I added. Smooth. Really smooth. Steve blinked. "Wow." "What?" "That's how you're ending this?" "I didn't say you had to go." "You literally just said I could." "That's not the same thing." He tilted his head slightly, studying me. "You want me to stay?" My heart did something inconvenient.
"No." Too fast. "Okay," he said, clearly not believing me. "I don't." "Right." "I don't." "Got it." I frowned. "Why do you look like you don't believe me?" "Because I don't." I rolled my eyes. "You're so annoying." "And yet," he said, stepping just a little closer again, "you agreed to pretend to date me." "That was different." "How?" "It just was." "Great explanation." "I know." He smiled again. Soft this time. Not teasing. Not joking. Just... soft. And that was worse. So much worse. "Thanks, though," he said after a second. "Again." "Yeah. Again." "You already said that." "I know. I'm saying it again." I shook my head slightly.
"You're weird." "You're still here." "That doesn't make me weird." "It kinda does." I let out a small laugh. Before I could stop it. And for a second, everything felt normal. Easy. Like this wasn't complicated. Like this wasn't going to become a problem later. But it was. I could already tell. Steve took a small step back this time. A real one. Like he was actually about to leave, "Alright," he said. "I'll see you around." Something in my chest dropped slightly. Which was ridiculous. Because of course I'd seen him around. We lived in the same town. Same people. Same places. Still. "Yeah," I said. "See you." He turned to go. Took a few steps. Then. Paused.
"Hey," he called. I looked up. "Yeah?" He hesitated for half a second. Then. "If I need your help again..." My heart skipped. "...you'd say yes, right?" I should've said no. I should've. But instead, "Maybe." Steve smiled. Like that was exactly the answer he was hoping for. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I had a feeling." And then he walked away. And this time. I didn't follow. I just stood there. Watching. Until he disappeared. And even after he was gone. I could still feel it. His hand. His voice. The way he said long enough. This wasn't supposed to be anything. It wasn't real. It wasn't. But somehow. It didn't feel fake anymore.
