today (of all days) - pt. 3
Hello!! I’m not gonna lie this chapter was a,,, problem. I struggled with ideas for so long but I finally landed on something I like!! This hiatus has been killer on my inspiration for writing but I’m determined to finish this! Hope y’all enjoy!
Gil is barely home for 5 minutes when a knock resounds through the apartment. After a couple of drinking celebrating his promotion to lieutenant, he’s feeling a bit fuzzy headed when he pulls the door open. Jessica stands in the center a bottle in hand and a dazzling smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Surprise!” She squeals. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the actual celebration, Ainsley practically hugged my leg refusing to let me leave until I read to her.” Gil smiles despite the obvious lie. He knows the truth, that she can’t be around all those officers. Looks of suspicion or pity on their faces as they stare at her.
“That’s alright Jess.” He chuckles stepping aside for her to come in. She sweeps in with all the grace she can, immediately stepping into his kitchen and retrieving the glasses. She knows where they are by now, that should make him laugh but when he sees the bottle again after she sets it on the counter he stops in his tracks.
“Oh, Malcolm wants to go out with you to celebrate your promotion too. I thought it’d be nice for it to just be the two of you and Ainsley and I could have a mommy daughter day.”
“I’d like that.” He says, only half paying attention to what she’s saying. He can see it now, the way her shoulders are knotted, like an invisible string is the only thing keeping her upright. Her flowing steps are more controlled than usual, extra precautions taken to not see her even stumble.
He follows her to the couch where he pours them both a drink. She doesn’t down the first like she normally would on nights like these. He wonders if this is her first drink. “Are you listening?”
He blinks, caught in his analysis. “No, sorry.”
“Ainsley has her first competition of the season in three weeks. You’ll make it right?”
“Of course. How can I miss New York’s most promising young figure skater?” He sees the spark in her eye just before it fades. A momentary happiness before being drowned out by whatever is on her mind.
“Good because she hasn’t stopped talking about showing off the new spiral she learned.” She doesn’t meet his eyes as she’s speaking. It’s a rambling sort, where she’s saying literally anything that’s on her mind rather than getting to the heart of the issue. It takes until he finishes this drink to bring himself to stop her.
“What do you mean?” She smiles, the one she saves for reporters and on her worse days, her children.
“You haven’t even been able to look at me for the past fifteen minutes.”
“That’s not true.”
“Then look at me.” She purses her lips, tilting her head before she finally meets his gaze. Almost immediately her mask falls apart, tears building in her eyes as she struggles to hold eye contact. “What happened?”
“Nothing. It’s ridiculous.”
“Not to me.” She drops her head into her free hand, eyes settling on the amber liquid in her glass. “Jessica, talk to me.”
She sighs, but relents, “I ran into an old friend.”
“His name is Thomas, we grew up together basically. Gave our parents hell in the way only two children of stupidly wealthy families can.”
“Hard to imagine you being rowdy.”
“Oh, I had a whole rebel faze in high school.” She laughs and he joins in. “We would sneak out, drink on the hood of his car, act gloriously stupid.”
“He’s different. We both are. He took over his father’s business, would’ve been my parent’s dream match for me. Maybe that’s why I was excited to see him again.” She places her glass at the table frantically wiping her eyes before the tears fell. “I could’ve made it right.”
“It’s not your job to make it right.”
“I know.” She sighs. “It just felt like a sign? When I talked to him it was just like old times. He didn’t treat me like-”
“Like the Surgeon’s ex-wife.”
“Exactly.” She picks up her drink again, maybe just for something to cling to. “Well, Adolpho did some digging. Turns out Thomas has an exclusive deal with Barbara Walters.”
“She was using him to get a story.” She nods her head tilted down as her shoulders begin to shake. “I’m so sorry Jess.”
“I just” She sniffs trying to take a deep breath to control the tears. “I thought this was different. Someone finally taking interest in me, not the Whitlys.” She spits the name with a venom she hadn’t before. Long ago she explained why she kept the last name. Now he wonders if she regrets her choice. “Feels stupid now.”
“It wasn’t stupid Jess.” He puts his drink down, reaching to her slowly. He places his hands on her arms.
“Most days I’m fine. I have all I need in my life with Malcolm and Ainsley and-” Her eyes dart away at the almost confession. He tries not to hope that she was going to finish that sentence with you. “But I’m so lonely. But nobody wants to be with the ex-wife of a serial killer.”
“That’s not all you are.”
“That’s all they see me as.”
“Not to me.” She stops, her eyes going wide for a second.
She takes a deep, shaky breath. Her voice is so quiet it's like she’s afraid to ask. “What do you see?”
He runs his hands down her arms scooting closer. “I see an amazing mother. One who gives up everything to make sure her kids are happy. One who hunted down therapist after therapist for one Malcolm felt comfortable with and never gave up. One who talks about her kids for half an hour before even thinking about herself.” She smiles, a soft broken smile. “I see someone who’s resilient and strong. Hell, I still keep the mental image of when you punched the journalist who tried to talk to Malcolm.”
“I beg to differ.” He chuckles. “I see your passion. You want to help people, even if they don’t want your help. You’re a good person Jess.”
“Tell that to Barbara Walters.”
“She doesn’t know you. Not like we do. You are tough as hell, and beautiful too.” Her breath catches in her throat at that. He wonders how long it’s been since anyone has called her beautiful. A heavy silence falls over the room. He opens his mouth again but before he can continue her lips are on his.
It feels like his entire mind short circuits for a second. He’d thought of kissing her about a hundred times but never could he think of acting on it. He wishes he could catalogue every feeling but she pulls away too soon.
Her eyes are wide and guilty. A fresh sort of shame washes over him as well, thinking maybe she regrets it. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s ok Jess.”
“You’re a good man and for a second I just wanted to pretend like I could ever deserve someone like you.”
“You are so good to my family. Malcolm thinks of you like a father and god how could I jeopardize that?”
“I’m so sorry can we-” He cuts her off by cupping her face with both hands and pulling her to him. She tenses when her lips touch his, hands hovering in between them. She relaxes when his thumb runs gently over her cheekbone and she knots her fingers into the front of his turtleneck.
He thinks he could stay there forever, just kissing her. Relishing in the feeling of her nails combing through his hair. She deepens the kiss pulling a groan from the depth of his chest. He feels her smile and laugh against his mouth and he moves a hand to her hip to pull her even closer.
She seems to have a better idea when she pulls away, only for a second to swing her leg over his lap straddling him. He doesn’t even have time to react before she’s kissing him again. He runs his fingers through her curls, they’re as soft as he thought they would be. When her tongue swipes across his he can taste the bourbon and a hint of vodka on her lips.
The confirmation of what he thought earlier is like being doused in freezing water. He pulls away but she immediately goes to attack his neck instead. “Jess.” He runs his hands over her back trying to get her attention. She only makes an inquisitive sound in response. “We’re drunk.” She hums in confirmation as if that was the most obvious thing. “Jess, stop.”
She pulls away and he watches the guilt appear again. “You’re right.”
“No, listen.” He brushes back the hair that fell in front of her face. “I want this, but I want you to want this when you’re sober.”
“Then we will try this again later. Why don’t you take my bed again tonight?”
“Only if you come with.” He tilts his head in disapproval as she stands, slightly uneven on her feet. She raises her hands sticking on her bottom lip. “No funny business, I promise.” Her expression changes, growing more serious. “I just don’t want to be alone tonight.”
“Fine.” He relents and her smile reappears. “But no funny business.”
When they settle into bed Jessica is once again wearing one of his shirts. He’s beginning to wonder if she doesn’t bring spare clothes for the purpose of stealing his t-shirts on nights they get drunk. He decides he doesn’t mind when she turns, placing her head on his chest listening to his heart until it lulls her to sleep.
The next morning when he wakes up she’s already gone. He spies the note on his nightstand with her careful swirling handwriting.
Belluci’s, tonight at 8. Wear something nice.
