"I'm headed out," Josh announces, fixing the sleeves of his shirt beneath the suit jacket. He runs his fingers through his freshly washed and styled hair, glancing in the mirror as he fastens his tie. "Don't wait up. Gotta check in on Harvey. He's at a facility in Jersey, so I'll probably be back tomorrow morning."
I nod, slightly surprised he was even bothering to voluntarily supply that little bit of information.
He turns around, adjusting his cufflinks as his eyes settle into mine, "You've got your Amex, right?"
I nod again.
He gently smiles, licking his lips as he sighs, walking toward me. I try not to flinch when he takes my hand and leans in closer as he whispers, "Take the kids out, have some fun, okay? Jack will be around. Just—" He abruptly stops as if contemplating what he was going to say next. He sighs, eyes catching mine again as he says, "Just please behave yourself, alright?"
I can only nod in response. Yet again.
Josh closes his lips on mine and my head gradually meets the back of the headboard as his fingers come up to grasp my chin. He pulls back for a moment before murmuring, "I love you, Alisha. I know I've been a real dick in showing you lately, but I do. Just please know that." He fuses our lips together again, drawing back to add, "This whole thing with Harvey's just reminded me how I need to keep you safe. Emma and Max too. You three are everything to me." He comes back for a third kiss and then again pulls away to say, "I'm sorry if I take it out on you, I'm sorry for hurting you. I'll try to be better, okay? I still love you as much, if not more than when we first started dating. I love you."
I nod as he kisses me again.
He leaves one last peck before straightening up as he reiterates, "Have fun with the kids, okay? Take them out for dinner, buy yourselves something nice, go somewhere exciting, just have fun, but more importantly: keep yourselves safe. Jack's here and around. I programmed his number into your phone as well. I'll be back in the morning. Maybe we can all do something together then, okay?"
"Okay," I breathe out, licking my lips, tasting the residue of his mouthwash.
He smiles once more before turning around, grabbing his bag off of the vanity and opening the bedroom door. Over his shoulder, while he walks away, he shouts back at me, "Let them know I'll be back tomorrow. Love you!"
I bite my bottom lip, watching as he disappeared from view and then intently listening to the sound of his fading footsteps. I wait until I hear the front door opening and then shutting behind him, the security system arming into place.
My breathing comes out ragged as the tears sting my eyes; the bedroom felt like it was spinning all around me as I let myself slide down the mattress, burying myself under the comforter. The sobs start wracking my body as I cough and cry and choke beneath the duvet. My arms wrap themselves over my chest in a tight hug as I curl into a fetal position wondering how the fuck he couldn't see how fractured we were.
Fractured far past the point of where "I love you's" and "I'm sorry's" wouldn't even begin to accurately piece together what we once had, leave alone repairing us back to our former glory.
I wondered how he could operate in such a bipolar manner, but I internally kick myself over the thought because I knew what I was getting into, I knew how he was. He'd been hot and cold about us since that very first kiss we shared. He'd shown me that night on the couch in my parents' basement. We'd had some pretty good years after we decided to make it official, sure, but those were long gone.
I couldn't stop sobbing because inside, somewhere deep down, I still wanted him. Every time he'd play this game of cat and mouse, where he'd throw me against the balcony or slam my face into a wall one second but then come back and kiss me and tell me he was sorry and that he loved me. Every time he did this, I found myself catching glimpses of his old self amid the apologies and rare moments of vulnerability and my heart would unfreeze, thaw at the display of his sentimentality. I'd find myself feeling hopeful that he could revert back. That all the times he'd gotten violent with me were really just freakish accidents when they weren't.
I am so fucking stupid to still love him as much as I do.
He kept me in this glass and stone mansion, in nice clothes and even nicer accessories, he granted me the privilege of holding a supplementary Centurion Amex card, which he monitored like a fucking hawk. I wasn't even allowed to carry my own cards; he monitored my credit report too. We shared the same bank account but only he had all the details of how much was in it or even where it was being used.
He kept me safe from everyone else, everyone but him.
He made it seem like I had autonomy, free reign, that's why he'd said to do something fun, the "something" being what I had "free reign" over. He wanted me to buy more useless materialistic shit, splurge, whatever, but we both knew I was forever caged. I belonged to him the same way the jewelry he bought me belonged to me. Like a shiny object meant to be paraded, fawned over, but tossed aside when it rubbed up against your skin in the slightest of wrong ways.
I was wasting away here.
He wouldn't even let me work, arguing that living where we lived it would take too long to commute to whichever institution, hospital, or university I wanted to work at. He loved to add that there was absolutely no requirement for me to work. My degrees in Biology and Epidemiology lay useless, merely decorating my home office, that was equally as useless.
My parents both worked within the medical sector – dad was a surgeon, mom an ophthalmologist – so it made sense to go into the same field. I'd been so eager to start my life with Josh that after I'd graduated at 17, I immediately moved to the city to attend NYU. I accelerated through my Biology major and then did the same with my masters in Epidemiology. I was in such a hurry that I never once stopped to enjoy university or get to experience the normalcy of it all.
Things were even shittier in my last 2 years because that was when Josh decided he was leaving the FBI. We were both up to our neck with work, me with school and him at his new job. Whenever we did see each other, one of us was almost always in some kind of a mood to fight. Despite all of that, somehow, we still ended up getting married. We were still happier then.
When I'd finally graduated with my undergrad and Masters, I'd taken the MCAT and after passing with the highest marks, I applied to the only medical school I'd ever dreamed of attending. Yet despite being accepted into one of, if not the most prestigious medical institution in the western hemisphere, Josh had barred me from actually attending Harvard. I'd foolishly assumed that proximity was the issue, reluctantly offering to compromise and apply to Columbia instead. He refused me again, and that was the end of it.
I always wondered whether my parents believed me when I'd said I was no longer interested in pursuing a PhD.
Josh told me if I was going to work then it better be in the city because by then he was deep into business for himself. That's when everything fell apart. That was when he broke his promise to me. The promise that he'd never again lay another finger on me.
I still remembered when he made that promise the first time, years before he broke it. I was so fucking foolish to believe him, to forgive him. I couldn't forget that night even if I wanted to.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
"So when are you getting here?"
"Probably in the AM," I grin into the speaker as I grab my bag and turn off the car, taking a quick glance out the window. It was pouring rain outside, I should have grabbed an umbrella or at least worn a hood. But fuck it, couldn't do anything about it now.
"Yeah, but like when?" He sounded impatient and the excitement in my heart grew ever so profusely.
"Why do you keep asking?" I smirk. "Are you that excited?" I get out of the vehicle, gently closing it before slipping my keys into my bag. I look down at the trench coat I was wearing, adjusting it, and fixing the buckle before looking ahead at the building.
"Fuck yeah I'm excited," he growls. "Haven't seen you in nearly two months!"
"I know," I softly reply, making my way into the building. "I miss you too…" I admit, walking into the elevator, hitting the number 7 as I bit my lip, murmuring, "Actually, I really miss doing that thing we did at the cottage all weekend long… Y'know? Do you remember? Yeah, I miss that."
Josh chuckles on his end, and I could practically picture his dimples revealing themselves as a slight blush took over his face.
"I just really miss you," I coo into the phone, anxiously tapping my foot as the elevator stirs and takes me up.
"How much?" He asks. I can hear him shuffling around in the background and I shake my head. The fact that he was able to multitask while keeping me on the phone baffled me because I could hardly drive while also speaking to him tonight.
My stomach was in knots.
"Sooooo much," I respond as the elevator comes to a soft halt. The metal barricades slide open, and I step out, casting a look to the right as I continue down that direction, searching for the correct door.
"No, but how much?"
"Are you mocking me?" I smirk again.
"Never," he laughs.
When my eyes land on apartment 7H, I bite my lip again from grinning so wide as I clasp the handle while whispering into the phone, "Do you really wanna know how much I miss you?"
"Always, baby."
"This much." I twist the doorknob, walking into the apartment just as I watched his phone fall from his ear and land on the couch.
Josh twists around, mouth gaping, a handgun now pointed at me. The sound of the safety going off makes my heart stop.
My own phone falls from my fingers and I freeze.
We both stand there for a moment, looking at each other, my hands shaking in the air with his gun still aimed in my direction the entire time.
When it occurs to him that I'm not some random stranger, he flips the safety back on before lowering the gun, scowling, "What the fuck are you doing here?! Did anyone see you?"
I grimace, feeling my entire body release all the sudden tension as I watch him place the gun onto the side table. I bend down, picking up my phone and chewing my lower lip, retorting, "Nice to see you too." He turns away from me and goes back to the duffle bag as I take off my shoes. I watch him shove something into the bag, shifting things around, acting very obviously rattled as he struggles to zip it up. I try to ignore it as I explain, "I wanted to surprise you, so I came down early. Didn't realize you'd pull your gun on me."
"You just scared me is all," he mutters. "You realize the academy trains us to be extra cautious and remain wary of our surroundings, right? What did you expect?" He grabs the duffle bag and throws it to the floor, shoving it under the sofa. He shakes his head as he turns around, asking, "How are you?"
"Better now."
It comes out barely a whisper. My heart starts beating unsteadily as my eyes land into his, stomach churning again while my mind fogs up; there was nothing but him, nothing but that half-cocked smile, those brilliant blue eyes, the way his hair sort of fell over on one side of his forehead, the slight stubble, the cheekbones.
I am so in love with him.
In an instant, I'm striding over to where he's stood and urging him down onto the sofa. He relents as I immediately fuse my lips to his while climbing on top of him to straddle his hips.
"I missed you," I whine against his skin as he moans into my mouth, fingers squeezing my waist.
"I missed you too, baby," he whispers. "But wait, I gotta—"
"I can't wait," I interrupt him, grinding my hips into his. He moans, biting his bottom lip as his brows furrow. My hands fly down to his zipper, trying to pull it down, but his fingers clasp around my own, restricting me. I glare at him, trying to move, but his hold is strong.
"Not right now, baby; just give me fifteen minutes, okay? Just—!"
"Noooo," I whimper, attempting to release my wrists from his grip. "We haven't seen each other in two months, I need you. I missed you so fucking much—!"
"Baby, I missed you too, but I swear, ten minutes and I'm all yours," he gazes up at me, imploring as he refuses to let go of my hands.
When my struggling leads to nowhere and he won't even let me kiss him, I sit there still straddling him as I furrow my brows, confused, attempting to muster up the best hurt face I could manage.
I lick my lips, asking, "Didn't you miss me? It's been two months since you last saw me. I missed you every single day."
"Of course I missed you, baby." Josh finally lets go of my fingers and yanks me closer as he pecks my lips.
"Doesn't seem like it," I snap, trying to get off of him now. "Seems more like you took my virginity, fucked me everywhere that one weekend, and then just fucked off—!"
"Baby, stop," he grits through his teeth.
"No, fuck this," I hiss, sliding back as I scramble to get up and away from him. Up and out of here.
His fingers clutch my wrists again as he pulls me back to him, whispering into my ear, "How could you even think that?" He kisses the side of my face, moving strands of my hair behind my ear. "Didn't I make that night special for you, for us? That whole weekend? How could you possibly think I would want you once and walk away? Or want anyone else? I told you, you're mine. I meant it. I'm not that easy to get rid of, and you're not that easy to leave." His fingers slide down to my chin as he nudges me to look at him and when I do, he gradually smiles as he leans over to kiss my lips.
"I love you," I whisper, running my tongue along the seams of his lips as he moans again.
When he pulls back, he squeezes me in his arms while resting his cheek on top of my head, greatly inhaling as he remarks, "You smell incredible…"
"Just for you," I mumble back, my lips reattaching themselves back to his.
His fingers delve into my hair as he smiles, "Oh yeah? Is that so?"
"Mhmmm…" I sigh into him, kissing the sides of his face and then his lips again.
"You really did catch me by surprise," he reassures, his thumb running over my cheek. "I'm waiting for a call so I don't wanna start something I can't finish."
"Not even if, uhm…" I bite my lower lip, that smile from earlier stretching along the skin as I remove myself from his hold and get up. Josh looks at me in an inquisitive manner, watching as I undid the belt of the trench coat. I lock eyes with him, keeping the opening closed as I shrug a part of it off my shoulder so he could catch a look at the lacy material adorning my shoulder, barely keeping my breasts up.
The blues of his eyes draw over to it and his mouth falls as he lets out a sound that was a tossup between a grunt and moan. He licks his lips, swallowing as he holds up a hand and I take it as he gently pulls me back onto his lap. He palms my shoulder, pushing my hair behind it as he urges for me to let go of the coat. I oblige and he pulls it open, his breath clearly caught in his throat as he nudges the material away from my legs, down my other shoulder. He then shifts until he's got me sitting on the sofa and he gets up, instructing me to allow him to slide the coat off my arms.
When he's gotten it off, he nudges me back until I'm lying on the sofa. The lights glitter in his eyes as he comes closer, his hands running over my thighs, my hips, my breasts. He palms them and squeezes with the gentlest bit of pressure.
"Holy shit…" He growls, leaning down to rub his stubbled cheek along my stomach. "Do you realize just how un-fucking-believably beautiful you are?" When he meets my gaze again and he smiles, crawling closer as he rasps, "Have I told you how incredibly stunning I find you?"
"Not lately," I breathe, now trying to contain how much I needed him. I'd be damned if I finished right here just at the feel of his touch.
"No, really," he insists. "The rookies I work with have photos of all their girlfriends and wives up in their lockers. I've seen or met nearly all of them. But I can't put your photos up." His tongue pokes out as he encircles it around my earlobe, sucking at the flesh.
"Y-yeah?" I stutter, pulling away from him. If he didn't stop, I was about to cum right there on the sofa. I was already so fucking wet.
He nods, licking his lips as he leers, "You put them all to shame. I don't want those guys talking about you the way they talk about each other's girls. You're mine."
"Only yours," I assure him, moaning into the air.
"Fuck, baby," he groans as he sits up, staring down at the bits of lacy material covering my most intimate areas. "I am so fucking hard right now."
"You know you can do something about it," I smirk.
It's like I've challenged him because within a second, he's ripping apart the top piece and grasping at my breasts until his fingernails dug into the flesh. I hiss at the feeling, grinding up into his lower half. He groans again as he comes back down, kissing my chest, trailing up.
My eyes are glued to his as he nears a nipple; he runs his fingers over it, pinching, before drawing closer. He licks a fiery trail around the hardened bud and I'm practically breathing like I've run a marathon, pleading for him. He shoots me a devilish grin before his mouth conceals the nipple inside. He teethes it and I squeal, arching back just as he holds me tighter, keeping me in place.
"Fuck me," I plead, meeting eyes with him again as he cups the skin, suckling at the bright pink flesh in his mouth. "Please…"
He traps the skin between his teeth, his tongue mercilessly flicking away as he moans. I moan with him, grinding against the bulge of his jeans. I was 2 seconds from just losing it right here on the—
Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz.
My eyes shoot over to where the gun was, which lit up with every vibration of the cell phone next to it.
Josh lets go and looks over at the same place for a second before glancing back at me, his eyes once again shooting me that look of implore from earlier as he says, "I need to get that."
"Get it later," I contend, returning his look.
He backs away from me and I lament as I watch him snatch the phone off the table and look at it. He types something back to whoever it was before getting up of the couch and reaching down to drag out the duffle bag. He casts an apologetic look towards me.
"Look, I just gotta run this stuff downstairs, okay?" I watch as he snatches the gun off the table as well and affixes it somewhere along his lower back. "Whatever you do, don't step out of the apartment, okay?" Josh then leans over and kisses my forehead. "Please. Just wait right here."
"Are you seriously—?!"
"Baby, just ten minutes," he begs, swinging the bag onto his shoulders.
Whatever it was, it was fucking heavy.
"Give me ten minutes and I will be right back."
"No," I hurl in return, moving away from his lips as he leaned down to peck me again. "I can't believe you're leaving right in the middle of—"
"I swear to you, I wouldn't be if it weren't important."
"Did you even miss me at all?" I get up then too, snatching the trench coat off the sofa and slipping it back on.
His jaw clenches as he watches me, his voice coming off grating, "Not this again, Al. How many times do I have to fucking explain—?"
"I don't wanna hear it," I bite back. "Between the start of my first year and you working for the Bureau, I never get to see you anymore, and I'm fine with that – I am – but what you could at least do is show me some fucking courtesy when I drive over two hours to come see you!"
"Ali, don't you dare walk out of that—!"
"I can't do this," I ramble, tying the trench coat around my waist so tight, I thought I'd suffocate. "I can't believe I drove all the way out here and you're just—!"
As soon as my hand reaches out to grab the doorknob, he seizes me by the arm, yanks me back, and against the wall. The side of my head hits the plaster and I gasp upon the contact.
I wasn't sure what I was so shocked about: the pain shooting through my cheek, my skull, radiating down my neck, or the fact that he'd done it at all.
He leans in close, towering over me, the rage making his entire body shake as he continues to hold me against the wall, growling through a clenched jaw, "I said don't! Step. A toe. Out of this apartment. Is that fucking clear?"
I can feel his hot breath washing down my face and I gulp, trying to choke back the tears brimming my eyes. I nod. It's all I could manage. There were no words I was able to formulate in my mind, leave alone actually come to utter. And I was scared if I did, he'd do something else.
"Good." He nudges my face until I'm forced to look at him and he kisses my forehead again before finally letting go of me. Josh points at the couch, dictating, "Take a seat. I'll be right back."
As he no doubt adjusts the concealed gun hidden into the back of jeans, he grabs the duffle bag off the floor before opening the door, turning the lock, and walking out. I listen as he checks the doorknob from outside.
Then it's completely silent.
I bite my lip, my fingers coming up to the side of my face, the throbbing pain traveling to my head. I pull my hand back to check for blood but there's nothing. I look at the wall he slammed me against and right there in the ivory paint, the plaster now bears a dent. Cracking the very slightest around the edges.
I can't understand why he would do that. He's never done that. He's never shown anger like that, not to this degree. Maybe I was realizing I didn't know him as well as I thought I did. Because technically I didn't. How could I think I knew him when I'd really only known him 2 years.
Actually, no, I'd known of him for 2 years; we'd only been together for the last 6 months. That was practically nothing.
I just can't believe he did that. How fucking dare he?!
After everything…
My head hurt like a motherfucker. I let my back meet the wall as I slide down it, pulling my knees up to my chest as I let the waterworks flow. I wasn't sure how long I sat there crying and slightly rocking myself back and forth to somehow alleviate the pulsating sensations sparking through my cerebrum.
When the locked door rattles maybe 10 or 15 minutes later, I brace myself. I feel every muscle within me stiffen, while holding my knees close to me as I held my breath at the same time. The door swings open and Josh steps in looking at the couch first, confused, before his eyes fall down to me on the floor. He bites his lip, sighing as he placed his keys by the ledge. He takes out the gun and places it onto the table before he comes near me.
With every step he took towards me, my body only tenses.
He bends down, looking into my eyes and I avert his gaze. He nudges my chin until I meet it before he apologizes, "I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry, baby. Get up. Please get up off the floor."
"No," I manage to meekly whimper out. "Stay the fuck away from me."
"Ali, come on," he urges. He gets up and takes me by the wrists, forcing me up.
When I stand, I back into the corner, shaking my head, stammering,"I c-can't believe y-you d-did that." Still trying to choke down the tears, I shriek "J-just don't come any clo-closer!"
"Ali, baby," he protests, holding his arms out to try and grab ahold of me. "I didn't mean it. You don't understand the types of people I work with."
"D-don't touch me, Josh," I warn him, holding up a hand.
"I didn't want you to get hurt, you were about to walk out the door."
"I don't care," I retort.
He takes another step closer and then places both hands on my arms and I struggle to get away from him. He holds me tighter in place and continues to just stand up against my body with his until I'm pressed into the corner. He nudges my chin again, saying, "I love you. I couldn't risk you going out there."
"You h-hurt me."
"Let me see—"
"Don't touch me," I beg as his fingers wrestle through mine.
He clasps my wrists in one hand while the other inspects the side of my face. He kisses my cheek before running his thumb alongside it. He whispers into my ear, "I swear, it will never happen again. I'm sorry, Ali. Please. Let me fix this. Your cheek looks swollen."
"Stop, please," I implore.
He doesn't listen.
Instead, he grabs my overnight bag with his free hand and drags me after him into the back, into his bedroom. He places the bag on the dresser before pulling the sheets and finally letting my wrists go. He urges me to get into bed, but I don't move a muscle. So he sighs as he bends down and takes me into his arm. He gently places me onto the mattress as he leans beside it, hovering over me.
He kisses my forehead, taking my hand as he says, "Seriously, Ali. I love you. I'm sorry I did that. I couldn't see anything in that moment, I didn't mean to hurt you like that—"
"But you meant to hurt me?"
"No, baby," he protests, kissing my hand, "I didn't mean to hurt you at all. I couldn't have you step outside; you don't know these types of people— Baby, please, stop crying." He comes back up, kissing both of my cheeks as he leans closer, brows furrowed, concern etched on his face. "I love you, and I am so sorry, baby. I am so fucking sorry."
I bite my lip, unable to control the tears as they continued down my face. Josh takes his shoes off as he climbs onto the mattress, encircling my waist as he pulls me into him, holding me snug against him as he rubbed my back trying to calm me down. All the while he continues apologizing.
"I am so sorry."
"Was this a mistake?" I mumble into his shirt, rubbing my eyes. I feel air come between us when he pulls back, likely looking at me, but I can't meet his gaze.
"What do you mean?"
"I think I fucked up," I whisper. "I don't— I realize you were right. I don't know you like I thought I did, I just—"
"No," he sternly says, cutting me off. "No. We're fine. I made a mistake. I fucked up. You're not leaving me now. I told you—!"
"But that was before you—!"
"Baby, seriously?" He moves my face up to look at him. "I am sorry. I am so fucking sorry. It will never happen again. I promise. Do you really want to end this?"
I immediately shake my head, burrowing my face back into his chest, "I love you, I still love you, I just—"
"Then don't say stuff like that," he responds, hugging me tighter.
"Can you please promise—?"
"I swear to you," he assures, "it will never happen again."
"I love you too much," I whisper. "I've given you a lot of myself. I don't want anyone else. I can't lose you, but—"
"You won't—!"
"But if this happens again," I interrupt him, "I can't see us—"
"You can't leave me," he repeats. "I'm sorry this happened, it shouldn't have. I fucked up big time, but you can't leave me now. I gave you the choice."
"But, Jace—!"
"No buts," he interjects, squeezing my body. "We're together. This is it. It's never happening again, I promise you. I love you."
"I love you, too," I softly answer, suddenly unsure of everything.
Was he implying that even if it happened again, I could never walk away from him? Because it sure sounded like it.
"Can you please forgive me?"
Reluctantly, I find myself replying, "I do."