milkgemini

[milkgemini]

don’t ask me the color of anything

[milkgemini]

imagine getting drunk with him in a bar

[milkgemini]

Thinking about him 🥺

[milkgemini]

4.11.24

[milkgemini]

Ripped out my heart. Chewed it up. Spit it out. And stepped on it.

Amor Fati - II

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 20.0k

Warnings: Cursing, Alcohol, Talks of Marriage, Talks of Children, Severe Angst, Yelling, Arguing, Gaslighting, Begging, Heartbreak, Severe Sadness, Depression, Crying, Kissing, Graphic Sexual Content, Unprotected Sex.

A/N: This is part two of this two part series. I implore you to read the warnings before you start to make sure this is something you are prepared for. Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it.

HER POV

You sat alone on the couch, mindlessly flicking through channels in hopes of something jumping out at you. Something, anything, that would take your mind off of Jake. Or the lack thereof. You checked your phone again seeing the screen still blank. 

This wasn’t the first time you’d stayed back as they went on tour. There had been several tours you opted out of, whether it be to save space, take care of the house in his absence, or just to avoid the hassle of back to back travel in a foreign country. Being alone was something you were used to, but this was different. Something changed that night. You could feel it. You both could, and the distance between you wasn’t just the miles anymore.

Three weeks had come and gone since he left. With a soft kiss on the cheek and the promise to be back soon, he left you on the front porch as Josh’s car pulled away from the house. Those first few days were normal. Good even. A call came when he arrived in Denmark, waking you from your dead sleep as you were wrapped around his pillow. He sounded good, clearly happy to be back on the road. And while it wasn’t that he didn’t like being home with you, it’s that the other half of his heart resided on the stage, and sometimes you thought that maybe that part of his heart was bigger than the part you occupied. You were fine with that, knowing he always came home to you and made up every second you spent apart. 

You both noted the time difference, knowing that the prolonged stint overseas would cause a bit of difficulty in your communication, but it wasn’t something you two hadn’t dealt with before. He told you he would call soon, and you knew it would likely be a few days as they recovered from jet lag and got into a comfortable routine. At least, that’s how it typically went. That, however, was the last time he called. 

You stopped hoping for a phone call around the beginning of the second week. A few texts came in every couple of days to check in and let you know where in the world they were. He would ask about the house and make sure everything was okay before disappearing for another few days. You could feel the distance more than you ever had before. He felt so far away, and there was nothing you could do to get through to him. You just had to wait. You would see his face on social media, recapping shows or prepping the crowds for upcoming dates, each time causing your heart to drop into your stomach. 

You tried not to think too much of his absence, keeping yourself busy with the house and seeing your friends. Normally you would spend time with the other partners while they were gone, but this time, everyone was there with them. Everyone but you. Your heart ached as you thought about the plans you’d made for off days and sights you wanted to see. You didn’t dwell on it too much, it wasn’t like he was going to do those things without you now.

Other free time was spent applying for jobs near and far, hoping to find something you enjoyed and were good at. Something you could put your degree to use for. You had worked your whole life until you met Jake, and once you moved in with him he made it very clear there was no need for you to work. He wouldn’t have stopped you if you wanted to continue, but as time ticked on you started to understand what he meant. He wanted you to have the freedom to go where you wanted, be with him on the road if you wanted, and not have to worry about asking for time off. Your life was incredibly comfortable and he had made it so. 

Settling on a movie you pressed the play button, watching the credits flash across the screen. It was then that you felt your phone buzz with an email. You slid your finger across the notification, a local coffee shop offering you a job. It wasn’t necessarily your dream job, and it wouldn’t use your degree, but any job was better than sitting home alone for weeks on end. You felt happy and excited to meet new people. To get out of this house. The isolation was taking a toll on you, and this was exactly what you needed to pull you out of your antisocial slump. 

You quickly emailed back, accepting the offer and informing them you would be ready to come in for training as soon as possible. You couldn't wipe the smile off of your face as you quickly hit Jake’s contact ready to tell him the good news. It rang only twice before you were sent to his voicemail, hearing him tell you he couldn’t pick up but he would call you back, a slight hint of laughter in his voice as he knew that was a lie. And in true Jake fashion his voicemail box was full. You pressed the red button ending the call, instead opting for a text. 

You

10:47AM: Hey babe, sad I didn’t catch you. Was just calling to tell you that I got a job. I start training this week. Should be a good way to pass the time. Won’t be too much longer now. Love you, break a leg tonight.  xo

You toss your phone to your side, relaxing back into the couch with your favorite quilt spread over you, deciding that later you would go shopping for some new work clothes, but for now you would drown your loneliness in ‘The Rules of Attraction’.

—

With the day behind you, you’re fresh out of the shower and tucked into your bed, reaching for your phone knowing Jake should be just waking up for the day. You knew it was likely he wouldn’t respond after his show, knowing he liked to give you his full attention the next morning when he wasn’t rushed. But, as your finger tapped the screen, it was empty. 

You quickly opened your message to him, wondering if it ever sent in the first place, only to find that not only did it send, he read it, making the conscious choice not to reply to you. You felt your heart crack open, the feeling of his rejection washing over you again, similar to the way it did that night a few weeks ago. You locked your phone and tossed it onto the nightstand as your eyes welled with tears, pulling the sheets over your head. His smell has disappeared from the pillows, only remnants of his scent clinging to his clothes in the closet, and as those started to fade too, you started to feel like he was disappearing completely. From everything.

—

Four weeks of silence passed, not a word shared between the two of you. After three days of ignored messages and declined calls you stopped trying. You couldn’t take another message being left on read. You tortured yourself watching the videos as they poured into the family group chat. Photos and videos of everyone enjoying themselves in Italy, Spain and the likes. You couldn’t bear to watch them, but at the same time you couldn’t look away. Just to hear his voice, healed a little piece of your longing heart. You kept busy working at the coffee shop, the shifts long and tiresome leaving you little time to think of Jake until you found yourself alone in the bed each night. 

It was early on a Sunday morning when a message lit up your screen, your phone buzzing on your nightstand waking you from your sleep. It was far too early to be any of your friends, and your real family never texted you. You reached up onto the nightstand, your fingers grabbing the phone and bringing it to your face. Your eyes squinted shut at the brightness, hardly able to read the name on the screen, but as your eyes focused you shot up in your bed, quickly opening the message. 

Jake

6:03AM: Facetime tonight?

You

6:05AM: Jake, we haven’t talked in weeks.

Jake

6:07AM: I know, I’m sorry. I’ll call you tonight. 6 your time?

You

6:08AM: Okay, yeah. That’s fine.

You watched your message change from delivered to read, and with no response you placed your phone back on the nightstand, closing your eyes and trying to find sleep again. It was no use though, your mind now swirling with anxiety over the impending facetime call. You wanted to see him, talk to him, hear his laugh, but after weeks of silence from him you felt a dark cloud looming overhead. 

You spent most of the day convincing yourself that his schedule had finally adjusted, and that he was finally in a place to give you the attention you deserved. You knew he was busy, and you knew that this European tour was going to be a whirlwind for him, which was part of the reason he wanted you to come in the first place. He knew he was going to have a hard time with the distance. 

You gave him the benefit of the doubt as you got ready for your phone call, doing your hair and makeup the way he liked, hoping he would realize how much he missed you when he saw you. Anxiety was wracking through your body as you watched the clock, waiting for the numbers to hit 6:00.

At 6:01 his photo lit up your phone screen, a soft tone ringing through the air as you sat perched in his favorite chair. You take a deep breath as you slide your thumb across the screen answering his call. Your heart is pounding in your chest as his face shows up on your screen, a little grainy, but still him. His voice pours through the speakers, like honey seeping through your veins. 

“Hey…”

“Hi.” you answer, stifling back a smile as you see his long hair and his bristly mustache. Your chest grows warm at the sight of him. 

He’s in your favorite shirt, an old ripped up white thing that should have been tossed years ago. You can’t quite tell where he is, but it's loud and you can hear people in the background. You watch as he turns his head, yelling to someone that he would be right back. 

Your heart drops a little at the thought of such a short call, but you’ll take it over nothing. He walks away from where he was, the sound growing quieter as he sits down beneath some twinkle lights on a patio of some type. 

“Are you sure you want to talk right now? Do you want to just call me later?” you ask, not wanting to take him away from whatever it is he’s doing. 

“Nah, it’s going to be a long night. Don’t think I’ll be able to later.” he answers, swallowing nervously. 

“Well, you look good…I miss you.” you say softly, watching him blink as he turns his face towards the ground. He doesn’t respond, just nods his head as he bites his lips. 

His head lifts and he looks at his phone, “Do you feel it too?”

“Feel what?” you ask, goosebumps rising across your skin. 

He blows out a breath and shakes his head, “The distance. The disconnect. Things are… different.” he answers, seemingly agitated. 

You recoil a little, “Well, yeah, Jake. You uninvited me from this tour. The tour where everyone I love and care about is having the time of their lives, enjoying all the things I planned to do with you. So yes, I feel the distance and the disconnect. Not to mention you haven’t spoken to me in weeks. Leaving me on read? Since when do you do that, Jake? To me?”

Again he doesn’t respond, just nodding his head in understanding. There is a few seconds of silence between the two of you before he looks at you again. 

“I’m really happy that you found a job that you like. It’ll be good for you to get out and make some new friends and meet some new people.”

You shake your head at his response, feeling the formalness in his tone. Why is he acting like this?

“When do you come home?” you ask, sitting back in the chair. 

“Not for another few weeks. Got a few more places we have to go.” he answers. 

“Jake, you called me, what’s going on? Why are you being so…monotone and short?” you ask. 

“I’m not, I just– It’s been a rough few weeks.” he says, blowing out a breath.

“Well, how about when you get back we go somewhere? Take a long weekend or someth–”

“No. No, Y/N, listen…I’ve been thinking a lot the last couple of weeks.” he says, rubbing his hand over his face. 

No.

“We need– I think that it would be best for both of us if we… went our separate ways.” he finishes.

You feel your heart freefalling from your chest, your traitorous tears falling without a second thought. 

“What?” you breathe, unable to see his face on the screen through the blur of tears. 

“We can’t keep going like this. Can’t keep doing this…”

“Can’t keep doing this?! You’re breaking up with me over facetime… at a bar? After five years? After everything we’ve been through? And… you’re done, just like that? Not even the courtesy to do it in person?” you stammer. 

You watch his head fall, “Y/N…”

“No, you couldn’t even wait to do it until you got home? It was so pressing you had to do it right now, in a bar, halfway across the world?!” you shout, letting your emotions get the best of you. 

“No, it needed to happen. It should have happened that night at home, I just… couldn’t do it yet.” he answers, honestly coloring his tone. 

Shock washes over you, “Oh, so you’ve just been planning to break up with me this whole time?”

“No! I just– This needs to happen for both of us to have the lives we want to have! I love you, Y/N, and I hate that I can’t give you the life that you want, but these last few weeks have proven that to me. You don’t want this life and it’s not going to change.”

“We were fine before you left! Everything was fine, Jake!” you shout. 

“We were not fine, Y/N! We were walking on eggshells around each other! Just avoiding the inevitable!” he counters. 

“Is there someone else?” you breathe, feeling your heart pounding so hard you might pass out.

“No, Y/N. There’s no one else. There will never be another you. You’ll always be as close as I ever got. I will kick myself for the rest of my life for not being able to give us the life I planned all those years ago.” he admits, blinking back his own tears. 

“You don’t have to do this, Jake...” you beg.

“Yes, I do. I have to do this for you.” he demands, unwavering in his opinion.

“Please! Just don’t! Come home and we can talk about it then, just please!” you plead, tears streaming down your face. 

He shakes his head as he looks away from the phone, not daring to look at you. “No, Y/N. I– I didn’t want to be harsh but this is it. This has to end. I can’t continue this way.”

A sob breaks free from your throat as you look at him, his beautiful, perfect face so twisted with pain. 

“Jake, I live with you! I have– I have nowhere to go!”

“Yeah, I’ll… help you move somewhere when I get home, but you have a little bit of time. I can help you with whatever financially, you know that you just have to tell me and it’s yours.” he pauses, looking at you finally. “You have to know that I’m not doing this because I don’t love you anymore. I am doing this because I love you too much. I love you and I want you to be happy. To live the life that the girl I fell in love with wanted. The one who had plans for the big house and the family and a dog… I just know I can’t give you that. I want you to find someone who can.”

“Jake, I don’t want anyone but you!” you shout, tears dripping down your neck. “I don’t want those things with anyone that isn’t you! I want that life with you!”

“I can’t give it to you, Y/N. And I won’t stay with you knowing that. Knowing I am wasting your time. Taking you away from someone who can give you your dreams.” he says, his voice thick with emotion. 

“So that’s it, then?” you ask, your voice cracking.

He swallows and nods his head, “Yeah...” 

JAKE POV

The bile is rising in your throat quicker than you can manage as you watch the tears fall from her eyes. Before you can say another word to her she ends the call, leaving your screen on her contact information. One glance at the photo of the two of you has your stomach churning and your mouth watering, an urgent feeling washing over you as your eyes search for the bathroom. 

Your legs carry you quickly to the restroom, kicking open a stall door as you empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. Your body tenses as you wretch, feeling almost as if your body is betraying your mind, emptying your system of the poisonous feelings swirling through you. You’d tormented yourself over it all day, knowing that this was going to be hard, but you had no idea of the physical manifestation of pain you’d experience. 

You tell yourself over and over that you’re doing the right thing. You’re doing the right thing for her. But if it’s right, why is the decision torturing you? Why are you heaving over a toilet bowl at the sight of the pain you caused her?

You hate this. You hate all of it. You want to take the next flight home, straight to her. Hold her in your arms and tell her you’ll make it work. That you’ll figure it out. But you know deep down that you never will. You’ll never figure it out. It will never work. 

You wipe your mouth on the back of your hand, falling down to the sticky floor beneath you as you catch your breath. Your eyes are blurry with tears, falling rapidly as the grief consumes you. How were you supposed to do this without her? You’d never done any of this without her. Could you do it without her?

She was right. She had been there for everything. From the day you signed with the label until now. Your rock. Your voice of reason. Your soft place to land. Everything you ever wanted, and you just tossed her away as if she was nothing. The sick feeling returns, your stomach swirling at the thought of life without her. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you reach for your phone. You have to call her. You have to make sure she is okay. 

You hit the phone icon, staring a second too long at the photo of the two of you, feeling your heart twist in anguish. How could you do this to her? 

The dial tone rings out over and over. You know she’s not going to answer. You wouldn’t either if you were her. Your heart sinks as you hear her voicemail and with a shaky hand you end the call knowing you twisted the knife too far this time. There was no coming back from this.

You let the tears fall for a minute longer, mourning the loss of her, here in this shitty bar bathroom. She deserved so much better than what you gave her. You should have done this in person. You knew that. She knew that. 

You pull yourself up off the ground, dusting off your pants and flushing the toilet. You quickly wash your hands and splash cold water on your face to try and bring down the red appearance. Your mind races with thoughts of her. The state she left you in. You immediately pull your phone out again, knowing that if she wont answer your call she will at least read your texts. She always reads your texts. 

You

12:49AM: Please call me back. I want to make sure you’re okay.

Before you can slide your phone into your pocket you feel it buzz and a wave of relief washes over you. 

Y/N

12:50am: I am not okay Jake.

The bathroom door flies open as you start to type, your eyes flicking up to see Josh, happy that he has finally found you. 

“The fuck are you doing in here? Let’s go!” he shouts. You lock your phone and shove it into your pocket so as to not raise suspicion, and follow him out of the bathroom as you discreetly sniffle away your tears. 

“You good?” he asks, turning to you and taking in the state of your face. 

“Yeah, yeah I um, I think I might head back to the hotel. I don’t think I’m down for another bar actually.” you answer, hoping he will buy it. You know there's a fifty fifty chance that he will see right through you. 

He stares at you for a second before speaking, “Alright, well…We’re staying out. But text me when you get back, yeah?” he says, clapping his hand against your shoulder. You nod and sigh a breath of relief that he let this go this time. 

You make your departure and walk the short distance back to the hotel, feeling the hole in your chest growing larger and larger as more time passes. You bring your phone to your ear as you walk, calling her again but this time instead of ringing it goes straight to voicemail. You feel like you’ve been struck by lightning as you end the call. 

By the time you step into your hotel room you’ve convinced yourself that she’s blocked your number, and you don’t blame her. It doesn’t make it hurt any less though. You drag yourself through a shower, your heart aching as you wash your hair with the shampoo she helped you squirt into the tiny travel bottles before you left. It kills you to know that those were some of your last happy moments with her. 

Your stomach threatens to empty at the sight of the shiny metal cuff in your toiletry bag. A sickening reminder of what you’d just lost. You can’t stand to look at it. Not right now. You zip the bag closed and toss it onto the counter, smacking the light switch a little too hard.

You slide into the cold hotel bed, the room dark and silent. The glow of your phone screen is the only light, illuminating your face for only a brief second as you try to call one last time. 

Voicemail.  

You feel your chest tighten and your eyes welling with tears again as you push a choppy breath through your lips. The pain was crippling you, and her silence made it even worse. You laid there for a few minutes, letting your mind replay the conversation over and over. Seeing her face when she answered the call. Her perfect face and her perfect hair, in your favorite shirt in your favorite chair. You knew she missed you. You knew she did all of that for you, and you still broke her heart. 

Your phone buzzes on your chest, pulling you from your wallowing. A notification from the Ring Doorbell showing on the screen. You scramble to open it, watching the video playback of her walking up to the door with a bag full of groceries. The sun almost completely set there, and her eyes were puffy as she focused on the door. You can see that she’s wearing your sweatshirt, the sound of her sniffle sending a shock of pain through your chest. You can tell her cheeks are red, she was still crying as recently as her drive home. You catch sight of the keys in her hands, noticing that she took your car instead of hers. You don’t think too much of it. She drove your car fairly often. You feel like you might drop through the floor with every second that passes, and suddenly the video is over. Ten seconds was all you got. You got your confirmation that she was, in fact, ignoring you, but worse you know exactly what she went to the store for. Break up supplies, and now that she had them you knew she wouldn’t be leaving the house for quite some time. You roll onto your side, opening her contact again and typing to her one more time. 

You

1:47AM: I’m sorry. Please tell me that you’re going to be okay.

You watch it turn from delivered to read, and when no bubble appears on her end you know that she isn’t going to answer you. You don’t deserve an answer. 

You open your camera roll, scrolling through pictures of the two of you, sliding through hundreds of moments spent with her, happy and in love. A time where this was never a thought in your mind. A tear slides out of the corner of your eye, falling over the bridge of your nose and dripping onto the crisp white pillow beneath you. 

You stop on one photo in particular. The best day you’d ever had with her. A day in Mexico last year. Sunkissed and thriving, the two of you lounged on a Catamaran in the Gulf of Mexico. You can still hear her laugh as the cold water misted across the two of you as the boat sailed. You’d never been more in love with her than you were that day. You stare at her, her skin shining and tanned from the sun, a pink glow on her cheeks. You’d never love anyone like you love her. You knew that even then. 

You knew that and still you let her go.

—

It’s been five days since you’d spoken to her. Heard her voice, or seen her smile. Every second that ticked past you felt like hours, wondering if she was okay. Wondering if you had really done the right thing. Everyday you’ve sent her a message, all of them delivered and none of them receiving a response. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? 

Slated for a week-long stop in Portugal, your heart ached as you recalled the plan the two of you made for your week off. Just the two of you, a villa on the water. Everyday spent on the ocean. You feel sick to your stomach at the thought of doing those things without her. You couldn’t do them. You refused. 

The plane ride was spent scrolling through playlists, looking for something to numb your mind. Something that would ease the pain swirling through you with every sad lyric of every love song you’d ever saved. Her socials are desolate. Not a post, not a like, nothing, in days. She’s silent, and you can’t help but to worry about her. After nearly a week of silence your rationale flies out the window, your fingers typing in her best friend's name. 

You

2:47PM: Casey, have you heard from Y/N?

You’re thankful for the wifi on the plane as her message bounces right into your inbox. 

Casey

2:48PM: Yeah Jake. I have heard from her. 

Okay, she knows and she's mad. You expected this, but at least she's heard from her. 

You

2:50PM: Is she okay? She isn’t answering my calls or texts. I just want to know she's okay.

Casey

2:52PM: I think you lost that privilege. 

You

2:53PM: I understand.

A lump forms in your throat, your chest tightening with grief. Your girl. Your rock. Your everything. Gone.

You tuck your phone between your legs, turning your face to the window next to you hoping that Josh won’t notice the glassiness of your eyes. 

You aren’t sure how long you stared out the window, the clouds were big, white and pillowy. You wondered how it would feel to touch them, would it feel like anything at all? Would they slip through your fingers, too?

Your phone buzzes against your leg, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts. 

Casey

3:23PM: I shouldn’t say anything to you, but I know you and I know you care about her. I don’t fully understand your rationale, but she is okay, she’s completely devastated, but she will be okay. Her phone is off, I haven’t seen it in days. I’m here with her, she isn’t alone.

You feel a weight lift from your chest just knowing she’s not dealing with this by herself. Your heart is pumping rapidly as you respond, the only words you can manage. 

You

3:25PM: Thank you

You open your thread with Y/N, looking at every message that has since turned from blue to green. You feel a little relief that maybe she hasn’t blocked your number, but instead has just let her phone die completely. Staring at the last message she sent you, so excited to talk to you about her new job and you ignored her. Left her on read, purposefully. How could you be so cruel? How much did you hate yourself now because of it?

You know this is how she must have felt. Watching, waiting, wishing for a single word from you. The man who was supposedly in love with her. You betrayed her, and her trust. You told yourself that pulling away from her slowly would be easier on both of you. Gently ease her into a life without you while you were gone. But you were wrong. Horribly, terribly wrong, and now as you stare at the green bubbles of text, you realize that you’ve only made things harder. You were naive to believe that any part of this would be easy.

—

The sun is glaring down on you in your beach chair, the sound of the ocean luring you in and out of a hazy sleep as music plays from your phone. You can hear birds in the distance, the sound of children playing in the water, and as you glance to the empty chair next to you, the voice in your head tells you who should be there. Who should be right next to you, enjoying the vacation you planned together. 

She was so excited to see Europe with you. She spoke of it daily, and you were so busy with your own preparation you never really gave it another thought. You told her to make a plan and you would be happy to make it happen. So she did. And now here you sat, in the beach chairs she rented, without her. 

Your phone buzzes on the small wooden table, the music going quiet as the notification tone rang out. One you would recognize anywhere. The Ring Doorbell. 

You snatch your phone from the table, pushing your sunglasses to the top of your head as you swipe open the notification. Your heart is racing as you wait for the video to load from halfway across the world. When it does, you see your front porch. The sky is dark as someone walks to your front door with groceries, setting them on the mat and pushing the doorbell button. You wait, knowing that if she’s home, she will answer. 

You feel like your heart might pound out of your chest as you wait to see her, hear her voice, and finally you do. The front door opens and the man hands her the paper bags of groceries, telling her he has a few more in the car. You hear her speak to him, thanking him, before the two of them talk about the weather as he hands her the last bags. You don’t see her face, only her hands, but still the sight of her at all is gut wrenching. You miss her, more than you’ve ever missed her before. You’d do positively anything to see her face, and knowing that you can’t and won’t makes it even harder. 

The video ends as the front door closes, but you watch it again. And again. And after listening to her talk for just those few seconds you decide you can’t take it a second longer. You open her contact and press the call button, but this time instead of it going straight to voicemail it rings. You feel a glimmer of hope. Hope that she might answer, but it's all for not when you are met with her voicemail once again. You knew you needed to stop calling her. Stop texting her. But you couldn’t. You still loved her. You still wanted her, needed her, and you wondered if that would ever truly change. 

—

You emerge from the bathroom, steam pouring out from behind you as you step into the quiet, cold bedroom of your rental. You didn’t want to be here, in the villa the two of you booked together, but you had no choice. You were forced to live with the consequences of your actions, and this was one of them. You walked towards your suitcase with your towel wrapped around your waist, droplets of water dripping from the ends of your hair as you showered off your day at the beach. You pull on a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, running the towel through your hair before tossing over a chair. 

Your hands are aching for your guitar, the need to play taking over your mind. It’s the only way you’ve ever known how to deal with pain. Through music. You kick yourself for leaving your acoustic with the crew, thinking you wouldn’t need it this week, but here you are, 20 miles away wishing you had it. You think specifically of your acoustic at home, the one sitting in your music room. A shiny little black Martin you picked up at a guitar show last Spring. God you would do anything to be back in your music room. Your safe space. 

The music room.

Your mind races a million miles a minute as you scramble for your phone in the mess of bed sheets. Your fingers fumble to unlock it, remembering the camera you had installed in the music room. Y/N thought it was a good idea, oftentimes you’d find yourself in there mindlessly strumming away, stumbling upon your next great riff while you were three sheets to the wind with no recollection of it in the morning. With the camera you had the ability to rewind and listen to it. It was brilliant, really, and you were glad you’d done it. Especially right now. 

You open the app, your heart pounding in your chest as the image loads. You knew she wouldn’t be in there, she had no reason to, but maybe if you could just…hear her. Just knowing she's there, in your home would be enough.

As the pixels start to clear up you see your music room, the little lamp still on and glowing in the corner of the room. Everything is exactly how you left it of course, not a single thing out of place. You quickly hit the volume button on the side of your phone turning it up all the way to see if you can hear anything at all, and to your surprise, you can. She’s watching a movie in the living room, and it sounds familiar. The dialogue is muffled, but still you know it’s something you recognize. You hear a sniffle echo through the hallway, barely audible, but your heart breaks. You wonder if she’s crying about the movie, about you, or maybe even both. You listen for a few minutes, feeling almost guilty for eavesdropping on her, but after spending the entire day in the sun, missing her more than ever, you let yourself have this. 

You try to place the movie, and it's on the tip of your tongue, but still it is just out of reach. Suddenly you hear her footsteps as she walks to the kitchen, you hear a glass being set on the counter and the sound of a cork being pulled from a bottle. Seconds later the footsteps are walking away and the movie starts again. Your heart beats a little faster just knowing that she's there. That she’s home and safe.

You close out of the app and rest your phone on your chest, blowing out a breath of air as you picture her in your mind. You can almost see her curled up on the couch, your quilt wrapped around her as she stretches out on the chaise lounge. You wish you were there. You want to be there. Or have her here, where she should be.

You roll onto your side and open Netflix, deciding maybe a movie is what you need, too. Something to get your mind off of her, even if just for a second. The app loads and as your eyes glance over the titles, your heart drops to your stomach. You know now why that movie sounded so familiar. It’s a movie the two of you have watched together a hundred times. The progress bar showing that she is about three quarters of the way through with ‘The Titanic’. 

Your mind replays every single time you two watched it over the last few years, the movie quickly becoming your ‘sick day’ tradition. Everytime one of you wasn’t feeling well, or even during a bad hangover, you would cuddle up on the couch and watch it. It became your comfort movie together, and you’re sure you’d correlate that movie to her and she to you for the rest of your lives. 

You feel a lump form in your throat as your thumb hovers over the play button, and for some reason, you press it. The movie loads at the exact spot she’s at, and it brings a sense of warmth to your chest, just knowing you were sort of watching it together. Whether she knew that or not. You knew it sounded stupid but watching it made you feel close to her, and now a thousand miles away, that's all you really wanted.

You prop your phone up against the lamp and pull the blankets over your shoulders, hugging your pillow to your chest as you let your mind slip away and into the movie. You love her. You miss her, and as you lay here alone, watching your movie without her, you start to understand that you always will. You reach behind you, grabbing the spare pillow and tucking it behind you, tight against your back. It’s cold but you know it will warm up quickly from your body heat. It’s not the same, but it’s all you have. Something you’ve been missing desperately. You close your eyes and just for a second, you pretend it’s her. Her body pressed to your back, imagining her arms holding you tightly as you fall asleep in the comfort and warmth of her embrace. 

—

Your mind is hazy, it’s been that way for a week straight. You can’t seem to sort it out, and you wonder if this is your new normal. You find a little clarity at the bottom of a bottle, letting tequila calm the racing thoughts, and soothe your jittery hands. Tonight was your first show back after your week-long break in Portugal, and while it felt good to be on stage again, it didn’t do a thing to mend the pieces of your shattered heart. 

You found yourself on a barstool now, drowning your sorrows as your brothers watched. They weren’t stupid, but they didn’t dare ask. No, they knew better than to ask. You aren’t even sure what time it is, but you know the bartender just called last round, and your brothers left the bar an hour ago. They tried and tried to get you to come back to the hotel with them, you insisting you would be right behind them, but you knew that was a lie, and you think they did too.

Josh gave you the look. The look he didn’t give you too often. He was worried, and rightfully so. He should be, you were feeling closer to the darkness than you ever had before, and you wondered if in some way he could feel that too. You told him you were okay, but neither of you believed it. 

The room was spinning as you stood from your barstool, confident that you were drunk enough to fall into your bed without thinking of her. Foolishly believing you were capable of that. But that was bullshit and you knew it. The woman hadn’t left your mind in weeks, no matter how hard you tried to drown her out. 

You made it through the front door of the bar, knowing you only had to walk a block or two to your hotel. You pulled your phone from your pocket, trying to focus your eyes enough to unlock it. You opened your texts, seeing a few unread messages from Josh and Sam, but quickly scrolling past them to find her name. You scrolled until you found what you were looking for, something that you took for granted, something you were positive you’d never see again. You read the words, hearing her voice in your head. ‘I love you, see you soon!’ Your heart ached to hear it just one more time. 

You know you shouldn’t, but you do it anyway, hitting the phone icon and letting the line ring. You don’t even know what time it is there, but you don’t care. You get her voicemail and consider leaving her a message but end the call instead. It hits you then that there isn’t just one thing that you want to say, it's a hundred things. You want to tell her about your day. You want to hear about hers. You want to talk about the show, and the weather, and hear her laugh and her tell you that you’re stupid and that there is no such thing as lucky socks. 

You glance back down at your phone, the messages you sent to her last week still marked read. You start to type as you walk, the letters jumbling together in a mess you can hardly read, so instead, you hit the little red icon, watching as the phone starts to record your voice memo. 

You stop it, deleting it, and trying to compose a thought worthy of sending to her. You’re known for your delicately strung together words, but you know that’s not genuine. You know that's not what she wants, so instead, you hit that button again and you just start to talk. 

“Hey, um…Y/N… I–I don’t really know what I thought I was going to say here. It’s probably good that you didn’t answer my call. You’d be mad. I drank too much. I would have just rambled on and on and– Yeah… I just wanted to tell you something, and I just wanted to hear your voice I guess, I don’t know. I– I got a yellow keychain today. Says Venice on it. I saw it and I remembered that yellow is your favorite color and I just couldn’t leave it– fuck. I don’t know why I can’t stop thinking about you all the time.” you ramble, your words slurring together the more you went on. It cut you off and sent before you could even listen to it back. 

You hit the button again, watching it record. “It cut me off the bastard…I didn’t mean it in a bad way, that I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s the good way, but it– I– I miss you, Y/N. So fuckin’ bad. I got that wine you like at dinner tonight because– well, because I miss how your lips taste and that was close enough. I’ve read your old texts a hundred times today. You said you love me and I fucking know you do, and I love you too. This shit wouldn’t hurt so bad if I didn’t. You know that, right? You have to know how badly I fucking love you Y/N. Swear I won’t ever stop loving you.” your voice cracks with emotion as you walk through the empty city streets. The memo sends but you know you aren’t done. You’re gonna say everything, one last time.

“I know you’re not going to listen to these, so I know this doesn’t matter but I gotta say it. It's eating me alive to keep it in. I wish you were here, I wish– well, I wish a lot of things but mostly every one of them is about you. At dinner tonight, everyone was talking and I just sat there. I realized that no one asked me what I was going to order. Everyone turned to their partners and they asked each other and I just… I was there, alone, wishing you were next to me asking me. I would have told you I didn’t know, and just picked the first thing I saw when the waiter came. I know what you would have picked though, and I’m so fucking sorry I took this from you. You deserved this. You should be here. You should be fucking here with me.” you continue, watching the message stop and send. 

You tap the button one last time, determined to wrap this up. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t mean shit to you anymore, but you have to know I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to talk to me right now. I wouldn’t talk to me either. But I am fucking floundering out here without you. I need to hear your voice, and I need to just… talk to you, I don’t know, fuck. I just– I’m awful, terrible, the fucking worst– say it, say all of that. Just say something. I can’t… do the silence. It’s– it’s suffocating me. I know I did this to us. I know it, but I still love you. That didn’t change, baby. Please please, just, don’t ignore me. Don’t leave me alone out here. Please. The–the bed is so fucking empty and I’m so fucking lonely here and I– I know I did this. I know I did this.” you stop the message, sending it to sit with the others, waiting to be ignored. 

Your heart is pumping as you watch it deliver, a thousand more thoughts swirling through your head now that you let a few out. You try to convince yourself that you’ve said enough, that you’ve made your point, but the tequila says otherwise and you find yourself recording once more. 

“If you can just, I don’t know, just call me, one time. Just talk to me for a little bit, just something– anything. I– I can leave you alone after that. We don’t have much longer over here, and I know when I get back things are going to be fucking hard and– baby, just, goddamnit, I don’t know what I want, I guess. I just miss you so fucking bad I feel like I can’t do anything else but miss you and think about you, and it’s killing me. Last night I went to the vending machine in the hotel, and it wasn’t until I was walking back to the room with two waters that I even realized what I’d done. I got one for you and you aren’t even here. You are so…woven into me. The best part of me. Anyway, the water sat on the nightstand next to mine and I stared at it all night. It was almost kind of comforting seeing it there, two things instead of one. ”

You approach the door to the hotel, and you realize that you have been rambling on for nearly fifteen minutes straight, and you still have more you want to say. You make your way through the lobby and up the elevator, tapping your keycard to your door to let you into your room. You hit the record button and start talking as you flop down onto the bed with a sigh. 

“I promise this is the last one, I will stop after this one I swear I just, didn’t realize how much we shared until I had no one to share it with, and that sounds so fucked up to say, but you know what I mean. You know you are everything. Everything in the whole world. I– I miss you baby. I miss you and I love you and I wish you were here next to me right now in this bed that is too big and empty without you. Just please say something to me. Please just… say you love me too. Say you miss me too. Tell me you can’t wait for me to come home. I can’t wait to come home. And I know I don’t deserve to see you, and I understand if you don’t wanna see me, but goddamnit I cannot wait to see you. Just be near you. I love you, Y/N.” 

The last one sends as your eyes start to feel heavy. You kick off your boots and toss your phone to the nightstand, turning off the lamp and letting the alcohol drag you into a dreamless sleep.

When the morning comes, it comes quickly. A heavy handed knock at your door wakes you, Josh barging into the room to make sure that you’re still alive. 

“Fucking prick, can’t answer your phone?” he spits, leaning against the dresser. 

You groan in response, rolling to grab your phone off of the nightstand. It’s nearly dead at 7% and your eyes feel like sandpaper as you try to open them further. You see Josh’s missed calls and numerous texts, each one slept through. 

“Whatever, at least you’re alive. I’ll see you downstairs later. Do not be late Jake. I’m serious. Charge your phone.” he says, pointing at you as he walks back through the door. 

You roll to your back and as you unlock your phone you find it still open on your texts with Y/N, and not only that, the six voice memos you decided to send her last night. Fuck. 

You refused to listen to them, not even wanting to know what you said. What you confessed. You don’t even let your eyes glance at the transcriptions. You are fairly positive you know what they probably say, but you can’t bring yourself to face it. But what you did see was that not only did she listen to every single one, she kept them, too. 

She gave no reply to any of them, and oddly enough you were okay with that, because knowing that she listened, and knowing that she kept them to listen to them again, was enough of an answer for you. 

— 

“Can you stop bouncing your fuckin’ leg like that?” Josh grumbles from the seat next to you. You don’t even notice that you’re doing it, but you stop. It takes a lot to get on his nerves so you must have been at it a while. 

With only twenty minutes until you touch down in Nashville, your nerves are fried. You’d spent the entire twelve hours of travel thinking about what to say. What to do when you see her. Thinking of every possible thing that could happen, each one worse than the last. You thought by now you’d have it all planned out. But as the wheels touch down you still have nothing but crippling anxiety and the overwhelming need to see her. 

You never heard from her, two weeks passed after you sent those voice memos. She never replied and you never sent anything else. She went silent and so did you. You knew that tonight, though, you couldn’t avoid each other. You expected to be met with rage, and it's what you deserved, but you hoped that deep down in there, she could level with you. Try to understand. 

You threw your suitcase into the back of Josh’s Jeep, only a short drive between you and what you’d waited weeks for. He could tell you were on edge, talking to you about any and everything that would take your mind off of things. When he wasn’t talking, the sound of the windshield wipers moving across the glass filled the car. The rain was heavy, some would even say a whitewash. It was fitting for your arrival back stateside, leaving behind the beautiful weather and sunny skies of Europe. 

“You know, if you need to like, come stay with me or anything, you don’t have to ask. You have a key. No questions. You know that.” he mumbles. 

“Yeah, yeah I know. I– I don’t know how this is going to go, man.” you stammer, not even sure what to say to him.

“Well, you just call me if you need me. Things will work themselves out exactly how they are supposed to. Trust that.”

“Thanks for the ride, and everything these last few weeks.” you say, turning to reach for the door handle. 

“No problem. Good luck. Love you.”

You give him a curt nod as you step out of the car and into the rain, your feet landing on the wet sidewalk in front of your house. You quickly grab your suitcase and your guitar case and run up the path to the front door, your heart beating out of your chest as his car pulls away. 

You look out the road one more time, the streetlights just starting to flicker on to illuminate the rainy night. You weren’t supposed to arrive back in the states until tomorrow, but everyone opted for the earlier flight, ready to be home and relax for a while. You noticed both of your cars sitting in the driveway, side by side, how they always were and you knew she was home.

You slide your key into the lock swallowing nervously at what you might find behind the door. You open it slowly, rolling your suitcase inside behind you. The house is mostly dark, the natural light that typically lights your home is gone now that the sun has set and the rain moved in. You drop your keys in the bowl by the door, locking the deadbolt behind you. You kick off your wet boots and leave them by the door, along with your rain soaked coat. You step a little further into the house, listening for any noise but you hear nothing but the rain tinkling against the windows. 

As you pass the living room you see a couple of large cardboard boxes sitting open with things packed inside of them. Your eyes scan the bookshelves, now half empty and bare. Your record collection cut in half with the removal of her own, and the frames on the walls missing their photos.

Reality sets in as you take in the state of each room, half empty, completely lacking any trace of her. She’s really going. 

You tell yourself over and over that you’re doing the right thing. That this is the right thing for her. You tell yourself that she will be happy. That’s all you really want. For her to be happy. You’re giving her her chance at happiness. Even if it costs you your own. 

You trudge to the edge of the stairs, knowing she's up there. You leave your things on the floor, your mind on autopilot as it carries you up the staircase and to your bedroom door. You know this is it. Behind the door you’ll find her, in what state you don’t know, but she will be there, like she always is. 

You take a deep breath as you twist the knob, opening the door to find it in a similar state as the rest of the house. It’s a skeleton of what it once was. It hardly feels like your own home anymore. Everything that made it home was because of her. You can hear the sink running in the bathroom and you know she’s in there. You step a little further into the bedroom, finally catching sight of her from the open bathroom door. She’s so fucking pretty, leaning against the sink as she rubs her fingertips over her face, spreading a sheen of oily softness across her skin. 

Your heart is thumping against your chest as you admire her from where you stand, just seeing her in the flesh bringing a chill to your skin. You shift your weight to your other leg as you watch her, the old wooden floor creaking beneath you. It catches her attention and she jumps backwards at the sound. She turns quickly to look into the room, seeing you standing there with your hands in your pockets. 

“Jake! Oh my god!” she shouts, trying to catch her breath. “What are you– You scared me! I didn’t think you would be back until tomorrow, I–”

“Yeah, yeah I know. We um, we were supposed to get back late tomorrow, but we got the earlier flight today instead. Sam was ready to get home.” you say quietly, almost afraid to speak. Your eyes flick up to hers, studying her face as she steps out of the bathroom. 

“Oh. I didn’t know, you should have said something–”

“I did. I texted you, but you didn’t answer.” you say, biting your lips together. 

She furrows her brows and walks over to her nightstand, her silky black pajamas catching the dim lamplight as she walks. You swallow thickly as you look at her, a sight for sore eyes. Your girl. 

She grabs her phone from the nightstand, picking it up and tapping the screen. “It’s dead.” she mumbles. 

“Seems to be a frequent thing lately…” you say, offering a playful smile. 

She grins a little and tosses it back down. She starts to gather up a few things in her hands as she rushes around the room. “I’m sorry, if I knew I would have already moved my stuff down into the guest room. I’m sure you’re tired and want to go to bed, I just need a second–”

“What? No. It’s fine, I can take the guest room, my stuff is downstairs already anyway. It’s no big deal.” you offer.  

She turns to look at you, her face serious. “No way, Jake. You hate hotel beds and that's all you've had for two months. I know how much you miss the bed when you leave. You take it.”

You want to argue with her, but you also know that it will smell exactly like her and her alone, so you back down, nodding your head. That, and she’s right. “Alright.”

You watch her grab her pillow from the bed, and as she starts to make her way towards the door you stop her. You aren’t ready to part from her yet. “Wait, no! Can we… Can we talk for a little bit?” you ask, nervous to hear her response. 

Her eyes peer into yours as she hugs her pillow to her chest and you can tell she's thinking about it. You move to sit on the edge of the bed, turning your head to the empty space next to you. She walks slowly towards you, taking the empty spot and you can feel the nervous energy pouring off of her. 

It’s quiet for a few seconds, but then she turns to look at you. You swallow again and lick your lips before you speak. “How have you been?”

She raises her eyebrows a little, and huffs out a breath. “How have I been? I’ve been shitty, Jake. The worst that I have ever been in my life,” she pauses. You deserve that.  “I’ve been here, alone, packing up my life with you while you’re on tour having the time of your life.”

You feel a pang of guilt pierce your chest. “It hasn’t been fun, Y/N. It hasn’t been what you think. These last few weeks have been some of the worst I’ve ever had. This is killing me as much as it’s killing you, if not even a little bit more.”

She turns her head away from you, looking up to the ceiling to try to fight back the tears in her eyes. “It doesn’t feel that way, Jake.” her voice is weak, her emotions showing through. 

“I promise you.”

She nods her head, twiddling her thumbs together over top of her pillow. “You were my first everything, you know… I don’t know anything other than you. I never wanted to know anything other than you. I don’t want that.” she says, her voice a whisper. 

“You were a lot of firsts for me too, baby, but I can’t hold you back anymore.” you answer. 

“Why do you get to decide what’s best for me?” she asks, a tear falling from her lashes. 

“I don’t, but I know the kind of person you are. I know what you deserve, and it’s not…this. This life I live…This isn’t what you want. This was never what you wanted.” you say. 

“That’s not true, Jake!”

“Okay, well answer me this. Do you want to have kids?” you ask, turning your body to face her.

“Yes.” she breathes. 

“See, I just… I can’t give you that. I refuse to be the reason you don’t get to live that dream.” you confess. “You can’t let me live mine and give up your own!”

“I can! Because I love you!” she cries, her hand falling to your arm. 

You reach for her face, cradling her cheeks beneath your hands, “And I love you! Don’t you see that?! Can’t you see why I’m doing this?!” Your eyes search hers, glossy and tear filled. She feels so fragile in your grip, you don’t want to let her go. You want to hold her, protect her, keep her safe forever. 

“I have to do this for you! I have to do this. I love you so much, Y/N. I swear this is the right thing.” you plead, begging her to understand. Her tears fall into your palms, hot and wet as they streak from her eyes. You rub your thumbs over her cheeks, swiping away the tears as you release her. 

“What if I don’t find it, Jake? This love you think I deserve…”

You shake your head as you look at her, “You are the best person in the entire world. I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. Fuck, everyone falls in love with you the second they meet you.” you pause, smiling at her as she sniffles. “Some man is going to spend the rest of his life with you, falling in love with you every single day. And every single day I will wish that it was me.”

“What about you though? Will you– Go find someone else who wants the same things you want or–”

“No. I won’t. I’ll do my thing and tour with my brothers and do what I love. I don’t think there will ever be anyone else for me, not like this. I will miss you and think of you and spend every day remembering everything about you. I’ll smell your perfume everytime I walk through the bedroom door. I will look for you in every room, and search the crowd for you at every show. I’ll look for you in every bar, hoping for just one more chance to buy you a drink. I’ll listen to your favorite songs until they don’t hurt anymore, and I'll hear your laugh every time that Johnny Cash album skips on Folsom Prison. I will remember you like that, as the girl you were before I hurt you. Before I…destroyed you. I’ll miss you, and mourn you, and I’ll pray every night that someone out there is loving you harder than I could.”

The tears are continuing to stream down her face, her eyes pinched shut as she sobs in front of you. Her body shakes with pain and you can’t help but to reach for her, swiping your thumb over her lips to wipe away the salty tears. 

“Please, don’t cry, baby. I can’t stand to see you cry. I think we’ve both done enough crying.” you whisper, watching her eyes flutter open to look into yours. 

HER POV

Your eyes meet his, dark and teary as he looks at you. The feeling of his hand on your skin is like fire, pure hot flames. But you need it. You can’t pull away. How could you ever possibly love someone else like you love him?

You can feel the pull to him, and you know he can too. There’s nothing you want more than to feel him wrapped around you, and your body must have been moving subconsciously because the next thing you know you feel him pulling you into his chest, holding you tight to him. You wrap your arms around him, breathing in the smell that you’ve missed so desperately. He kisses the top of your head, his favorite way to comfort you. You feel the warmth spreading through your body the longer you spend in his arms. 

He falls back onto his pillow, pulling you with him as he refuses to let go of you. Your hands grip into his shirt, desperate to touch every single inch of him that you’ve been without. His lips kiss your head again, your wet tears staining his shirt as his lips move to trail over the side of your face. Your body curls into his the way it always has, so perfect and warm. You never want to leave. You want to stay like this with him forever. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” he whispers, tears falling from his own eyes. You know this is hurting him. You can’t even imagine how lonely he was these last few weeks. His drunken voice memos giving you your only insight into his true feelings. You turn your face up to look at him, staring into his pain filled eyes as he stares back into yours. Another tear sneaks away from your own eye as you look at him. The most beautiful person you’ve ever known, knowing that he’s no longer yours. You stifle back the sob in your chest, not wanting to face the reality of the situation just yet. 

His hand slides up to cup your cheek, swiping away the tear as he tries to stop his own. Your heart is pounding as the two of you look at each other, the tension between the two of you finally snapping as both of you move towards each other, feeling your lips connect after so long of being apart. You pull him closer to you, snaking your hands under his shirt, feeling his skin on your fingers after so long without him. His grip tightens on your face, his lips desperately devouring your own and you let him, because you’re fairly certain that you both know this is it. 

The softest moan left his lips as they tangled with yours, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip, begging for just a little more. You part your lips, letting your tongue swipe against his, this time a whimper leaving your own lips. He hums as his tongue swirls with yours, the taste of him something you missed more than you ever thought. His hand has moved to grip into your waist, sliding beneath the silky fabric of your pajamas. His thumb swipes at your skin, soft and rough, and purely Jake. 

He pulls away from your lips, just enough to whisper against them, “You’re so beautiful. So perfect, baby. The most incredible woman I’ve ever known. It was never any of those things that were wrong, say you know that. Tell me you know how much I love you.” he begs. 

“I know…” you breathe, needing to feel his lips on yours again. 

“You know I’ll never love anyone else like this, right?” he asks, his eyes hooded as they focus in on your lips.

You nod as you kiss him again, “Me either–”

“No, please, don’t say that. I want– I want you to love someone else like this. None of this is worth it if you don’t.” he pauses, looking into your eyes. “I swear to God in another life it was us. It will always be us, for me.”

“But what about now?” you breathe, parting your lips from his. “Can it be us, now?”

His hand slides farther up your shirt, his hand gripping into your ribs. “It can be us tonight…”

You tilt your head closer to his, your lips connecting in something a little slower. Something a little more passionate. Something that you both know ends tonight. 

He pulls away after a minute, brushing the hair away from your face, “Are you sure this is what you want? I–I thought you hated me, I haven’t heard from you in weeks, I–”

“I saw everything. Read them all. Listened…” you say, blinking away tears. 

He nods his head as he thinks back to the messages he sent. “I meant everything I said.”

“I know you did, baby.” you whisper, feeling him pull your hips closer to his. 

“Why didn’t you answer?”

“Because I didn’t know what to say. I still don’t. I still love you, and I think you still love me.” you answer, running your fingers up and down his back. 

“You know I do. I didn’t stop. It didn’t just go away. Let me, just– Can I–”

“Show me.” you whisper. “One last time.”

You watch his eyes well with tears as his hand splays across your back pulling you into him. He kisses you hard, in a way you’ve only experienced a few times. It's primal and wanting. You grab the hem of his shirt and start to pull it over his back, only letting him break away from you long enough to pull it over his head. You hear the tinkle of his necklace as it settles against his skin, his reminder of home when he’s gone. 

His hand glides over the curve of your hip, his thumb dragging your silk shorts over your legs as you unbuckle his belt. You could feel the burning inside you. You wanted him, needed him, even if you knew it was the last time. You both move slowly, a silent understanding that you weren’t in a rush. That you wanted to take your time and memorize every single part of each other. His lips never part from yours, and your hands never leave his body. 

His fingers drag your tank top over your head, before his palm finds your chest, his fingers kneading at the soft skin. He kicks his pants off, your hand meeting the soft curve of his stomach as your fingertips slide into the waistband of his boxers. He sighs into your mouth at your touch, your body automatically arching into his. His hand moves quickly to grip into the flesh of your leg, pulling your leg over his hip. 

“Jake…” you pant, your need taking over. 

“Say you’re sure. Say you want me one more time.”

“Baby, please. I want you.” you whine, letting your eyes meet his. 

He moves slowly, rolling you to your back. He pushes his boxers off before crawling over top of you. He looks almost ethereal from where you lay beneath him, his wild hair a tangled mess around him, and his skin perfectly tanned from the Tuscan sun. His eyes flick down to your chest, moving lower down your body until he stops at your hips, letting his fingers pull the fabric of your underwear down over your legs. You can see the pain in his eyes as he does it, committing every second to memory. You feel your eyes fill with tears as you think about this being the last time for him to see you like this. To be with you like this. To love you so fully, like this.

“You’re beautiful.” he whispers, his eyes still taking you in. “I didn’t tell you enough. I should have told you more.”

You blink away the tears, letting them roll down the side of your face as you feel him reach between the two of you. He places his warm hand on your stomach, letting his fingertips brush against your skin. His thumb dips down, collecting a bit of your wetness and dragging it up over your clit. You’ve been desperate for his touch for weeks, and now that you had him you could hardly believe it was real. 

“Oh, baby… fuck…” he breathes, dropping his head down to take in the sight of you. His thumb continues to swirl circles over you, your chest heaving beneath him as you feel your nerves start to come alive. “So goddamn beautiful.”

You squirm in his grasp, feeling too close to the edge already. You grab his hand and pull him forward, bringing his lips to yours as he rests hard and heavy between your legs, “Jake please, I don’t want to wait for you any more.”

He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, biting it softly as he pulls away, pushing up on one arm to hover over you. He reaches between you once more, this time fisting himself at the base as he drags his head through your wetness. “I wanted to take my time with you.”

“Please Jake...” you ask. 

He nods, slowly letting himself slip into you, the stretch burning as he presses forward. He clamps his eyes shut as he feels you surrounding him, hot and smooth, all the way to the base. He lets out a breath of air as he bottoms out, opening his eyes to look down at you. Neither of you speak, the emotions flowing between the two of you tangible. You could reach up and pluck the pain out of the air circling between the two of you, if only you had the will. 

He starts to move inside of you, the steady push and pull, the perfect drag of his hips against you, forcing whimpers to fall from your lips. This is slow, and steady. This is honest, and forgiving. This feels uninhibited and wild but not chaotic. You can feel that he loves you and he can feel that you love him. You let him own you, possess you like this one, one last time.

You can tell he's let his guard down, he is showing you exactly how he feels, his hands holding you so carefully, so reverently, that you feel as if you’re made of glass. He whines and groans with every stroke inside you, the sex between the two of you never feeling quite like this before. You wonder if this is how sex was always meant to be between two people, devastatingly tender and all encompassing. 

He grabs your hands in his, twisting your fingers together as he holds them over your head, dropping his body weight on top of you, and letting his hips thrust into you in long, deep strokes. His lips fall to your neck, soft kisses and nips at your skin light you on fire. You can feel the pressure building inside of you, and you know he can feel you fluttering around him as his breath hitches in his throat. 

“Baby…” you whine, letting go of his hands and wrapping your arms around his head. You hold him there against your chest as you start to reach your peak, his head breaking free and flying up to watch you as you unravel for him, his eyes locked on yours as you come. It’s almost instantly that the tears spring from your eyes. The floodgates opening as your release takes over you. Every bottled up emotion you felt for this man came pouring out.

“I love you, baby. I love you so much.” he pants, his hand cradling your cheek as he looks at you. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you.”

His hips continue their long strokes, his eyes dripping with tears of his own as he works toward his own release. His eyes never leave yours, and you never want them to. You feel sacred here. Worshiped here. 

“Tell me you’ll forgive me one day. Just tell me you won’t hate me forever.” he begs, still holding your body close. 

Your eyes blink rapidly, the tears forming faster than you can blink them away. “I can’t hate you Jake. I’ll never hate you. Look at me. Look at me.” you plead, grabbing his face in your hands. “I love you, Jake. You’ll always keep a part of me.”

You feel his hips falter, his eyes squinting shut as he pumps into you again, “Baby, I–”

His arms snake around your body, locking you in tightly to his chest as he meets his release within you. His cry fills the room, so perfect, so filled with love you can barely stand it. His grip is so tight you struggle to breathe, suffocating in him. Surrendering to him.

The tears flow down your cheeks as you realize it’s over, everything is over. You wrap your arms around his neck as he pants on top of you, his hot breath on your cheek. You both lay there for a few minutes, just feeling each other's tears drip onto your skin. Both of you refuse to let go, neither of you wanting to be the first to do it. 

He does eventually roll off of you and onto his side, his arms not letting you go as he looks at you. “Can I clean up? Take care of you?”

You nod as you sniffle, feeling him pull away and roll out of the bed. You watch him as he walks to the bathroom, the tan line on his hips prominent as he disappears into the bathroom. You roll over onto his pillow, happy that it finally smells like him again. 

It’s not long until he’s walking out of the bathroom, a wet washcloth in his hand. He sits on the edge of the bed, tapping your hip gently to have you turn to him. You reach for the washcloth but he pulls it away. 

“Let me do this. Let me take care of you. Please.”

You turn to him, letting him run the warm rag over your body, washing away the remnants of his release and yours, placing a soft kiss to your knee when he’s done. He bends to the floor, grabbing your pajamas, and placing them on the bed next to you. 

“Y/N?” he asks, his voice low and gravely. 

“Yes?”

“Will you stay? In here tonight?” he asks, peering at you from his lashes.

“I– Do you want me to?” you ask. 

“I do. I really do. I don’t want you to go downstairs. I want you here, in our bed, with me. It can be the last time.”

It’s like a stab to the heart, those last words. You didn’t want it to be the last time. Not ever.

“Okay.” you nod. 

He stands from the bed and walks into the closet, re-emerging with a clean pair of boxers on and an old faded t-shirt. 

You slide your pajamas back on, resituating yourself under the warm sheets as he walks to his side of the bed. He pulls the comforter back, crawling in next to you and laying back onto his pillow with a sigh. 

“I really do miss this bed when I leave.” he says, staring up at the ceiling.

“See, I knew it.” you laugh, fixing your pillow. 

“I think I will miss you in it more.” he finishes, turning to look at you. It’s quiet for a few minutes, but then an idea strikes you. You pull the blankets off of you, and walk around the front of the bed making your way to the door. 

“Where are you going?” he asks, his head tracking with you. 

“I’ll be right back, just hold on.” you call, walking down the stairs. You see his things laying on the floor, and you realize that he couldn’t wait to get upstairs to find you, his phone still laying on the entry table with his keys.

You walk into the kitchen, opening the freezer and pulling out an untouched pint of ice cream. You grab two spoons from the drawer, closing it with your hip as you start to make your way back upstairs. You take them two at a time, climbing them fairly quickly and returning to the bedroom. 

He’s laying in bed, one hand behind his head while the other rests on his stomach. He turns to look at you as you close the door with your foot, letting a smile cross his face when his eyes meet yours. He pulls back the blankets, allowing you to slide back into the bed next to him, cuddling into the pillows as you hand him a spoon. 

“Ice cream, huh?” he smirks, grabbing the pint from your hand to pry off the lid. “Wait, it’s Pistachio…” he pauses, turning to look at you. “That’s my fa–”

“Your favorite, yeah, I know.” you finish, a tiny smile on your lips. 

“Why did you– You didn’t have to do that– I–” he stammers, a look of guilt on his face. 

“I got it a few weeks ago. I thought…I don’t know, it sounds stupid...” you trail off. 

“No it doesn’t, just say it.” he says, scooping out the green ice cream.

“I got it after, you know, that phone call…I thought seeing it in the freezer would make me miss you less or something. It didn’t, and I couldn’t bring myself to eat it. Not without you.” you confess. 

He pulls the spoon from his mouth and hands you the pint, “I’m here now…”

You take the icy container from his hand and scoop out your own bite, your eyes filling with tears as you take in the moment. Sharing this, with him, in bed for what would likely be the last time.

The two of you pass the pint back and forth in silence, not a word said, both of you clearly wrapped up in your own thoughts. You’ve both had your fill, and Jake seemingly knows, grabbing the lid and your spoon before rolling out of the bed and heading downstairs. In his absence you brush your teeth and return back to the bed, rolling to your side to await his return. Your chest is heavy with the events of the night, and you try not to think too much of it. You can’t let yourself think too much of it. You know this is it, and that things are not going to magically change. 

You hear his footsteps as he walks up the stairs, slow and even, before he is passing through the door with his toiletry bag and his phone in hand. He tosses the phone to the bed on his way to the bathroom, searching for his toothbrush in his brown leather bag. It had been so long since he had been home, you missed watching him do things like this. He was the kind of person that could make even the simplest, most trivial task look intriguing and effortless. You could hardly tear your eyes away from him. There was just something about him. 

He peels his t-shirt off and tosses it to the floor in one fluid motion as he slides back into the bed. He places his phone on his nightstand and adjusts his pillow under his head with a yawn. He’s tired, you can see it on every inch of him. His hands search for you as you roll towards him, laying your head on his shoulder as he wraps his arms around you. He reaches over and turns off the lamp, leaving the bedroom in a dark blue cast as the rain patters on the windows. You breathe in the smell of him, taking in the softness of his skin beneath your fingers, and you can feel him doing the same, letting his fingertips roam the expanse of skin on your arm. 

You both lay there just listening to the rain as your eyes grow heavy. You feel his lips brush the top of your head, his ever present and silent way of telling you goodnight. You let your lips press softly to his chest, your wordless response. His fingers continue to move until they slowly come to a stop as his eyes finally close. You won’t sleep tonight, you’ll lay here like this with him until the sun comes up and the birds start to call to each other. You’ll soak in every second with him. You know that the past five years, everything good and bad, with the man in your arms is the only thing that will be laid to rest tonight.

—

When the morning comes he’s gone. The wrinkle in the sheets and the smell of him on the pillows are your only real indication he was there in the first place. You had a plan. You had a plan and it failed. 

You needed to tell him, but how could you? After last night? 

The U-Haul would be here tomorrow and you still had a full day of packing ahead of you. You were surprised when he didn’t question you about the boxes everywhere. You half expected it, but he didn’t. You know he didn’t want to hurt you more. 

You expected him home tonight, and you’d planned to be gone by the morning, but that all went wrong when he came home early. You should have known, it was very much like him to appear when you least expected it. He came into your life that way, unexpectedly. Now he was leaving it the same way.

You know that he’s going to ask you where you’re going and you know that your answer is not going to be what he expects. But you know it has to be this way. 

So tonight you would tell him. 

—

You sat crossed legged on the front porch swing, watching as the sun dipped into the sky. A beautiful pink and orange sunset, the kind they didn’t have back home. You sipped the last of your drink, well deserved after spending the day packing away the rest of your things. It wasn’t much but it was packed into every room of the house over the years and you found it more difficult than anticipated to pull your things from his. 

He was gone the entire day, where you don’t know, but you assume at the office or maybe even the studio. You know he is processing last night much in the same way you are in the only way he knows how. With his hands. 

You swing back and forth, your toes gliding softly over the concrete. The air is cold, but you don’t mind it. It’s kind of nice. It makes you feel alive. Your stomach drops as you watch his car turn down the street. Your heart starts to beat a little faster as he pulls into the driveway, turning his car off and stepping out. 

He walks slowly with his hands in his pockets as he joins you on the porch. He looks like he’s deep in thought as he comes to sit next to you on the swing. 

“D’you have a good day?” he asks, his voice soft and gentle.

“Suppose so. I…finished packing.” you answer, matching his tone. 

He hums as he nods his head, letting his arm rest on the back of the swing. “You um…you can take whatever you need, you know that…”

“Thanks, I think I have what I need though.” you murmur, letting your feet swing as Jake glides the two of you back and forth. How many nights had you spent out here enjoying the sunset, enjoying the morning, enjoying each other?

“When?” he asks, unable to say the rest of the words out loud. 

“Tomorrow.” you whisper, turning your eyes to look down at your fidgeting hands. 

“Oh, that’s…That’s really soon, I–”

“I wasn’t expecting you to be home until tonight. I was planning to pack up and be done before you got home and be gone tomorrow when you woke up. I just wanted to leave your keys with you.” you continue. 

He bites his lips together, “Ah, the keys…”

“They’re on the entry table. Your AmEx is on the kitchen counter…I don’t think there’s anything else.”

He rubs his hand harshly over his face as he blows out a breath, “Fuck.”

You pull your knees up to your chest, resting your chin on your crossed arms. He stares out across the porch, and you can almost hear the hundreds of thoughts rushing through his mind. He swallows hard in an attempt to conceal his emotions, but you know. You’ve always been able to tell. 

“Where?”

Here it is. 

“I’m um…I’m leaving the city. I’m gonna go home.” you answer, a waiver in your voice. 

His head snaps over to look at you, shock painted across his dark brown eyes. “Home?! Like, home home? Back to– to your parents? ” he asks. 

“Yeah, home, but not to my parents. I got a little apartment downtown. It’s going to be an adjustment, but I think it will be good.” you answer nervously. 

“What? That’s like– what, ten hours from here?!” he asks, his chest heaving the more he gets worked up. “No, no you can’t do that! What about your job? Don’t move away from Nashville, you love it here! Is it the money? If it’s about money I can–”

“No, Jake. It’s not about money.” you answer, cutting off his rambling. 

“Then what?” he asks, everything about him vulnerable in this moment. 

“Jake…” you pause, taking a deep breath. “You know why I have to leave.”

His hands reach for yours, holding it between both of his. “I don’t, and if you don’t tell me I will drive myself insane not knowing.”

You peer up at him, his eyes flicking back and forth as he searches your face, “Because if you want me to be happy with someone else, I can’t be anywhere near you…Because I don’t think I’d survive seeing you happy with someone else.”

He blows out a breath and drops his head, “Baby…Y/N… There’s not going to be someone else.”

“How can you say that? How can you know that Jake!” you shout, pulling your hand from his. 

He stiffens a bit at your sudden shouting, “Because I’m not going to let myself! I can never do this again! I will never go through this again! I hate myself for doing this to you!”

“So why do it!?” you shout, your eyes wet with tears.

“Because I would hate myself more for taking away your dream! Waking up next to you everyday knowing I can’t give you what you want!” he says, shaking his head. You can tell he means it. You can tell this is killing him. He doesn’t want this either.

“I’m sorry I’m hurting you.” you breathe, watching his face drop again.

“I’ll never forgive myself for any of this.”

You both sit there, the swing no longer swinging, and the sun no longer shining. The air is cold, both of you wincing at its chill. 

“Let’s go inside,” he breathes, standing from the old wooden swing. He turns to you, waiting for you to join him even still. “I’ll make us something to eat.”

“You don’t have to, Jake, I can–”

“Let’s go inside, and I’ll make us something.” he repeats, a demanding sincerity in his voice. He isn’t going to take no for answer. You nod your head and follow him inside, leaving your shoes by the door. 

“Why don’t you go…Shower or something, I’ll come find you when it’s done.” he says, throwing his coat onto the entry table. 

“Jake, you really don’t have to.”

“I know, but I would like to, if you’d let me.” he says, voice smooth as honey. 

You feel your cheeks heat, as glimpse of the young boy you fell in love with peeking through. 

“Find you in a few?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder. 

You nod your head with a soft smile, pretending that the dagger in your heart hadn’t just been twisted a little further.

—

JAKE POV

You hear the water shut off upstairs and you know she’s done with her shower. You made dinner, nothing too extravagant. You knew she’d be mad if you did. She didn’t even want you to do this, but you wanted to. You missed it while you were gone. You wondered all day if she would be here when you got back. Part of you thought maybe she would be gone, taking some of her things to her new place, but you were surprised to pull up to the house and find her on the porch swing. 

Nothing could have prepared you for that conversation. Not only was she moving out, but she was moving home. You could hardly collect your thoughts, trying to throw money at her as if that would make her stay. She was leaving because of you, and that was the part you had to remember. You drove her to this decision. 

You knew once she was gone the chances of ever seeing her again were next to none, and in that moment of realization your world seemed a little less bright. You were getting what you wanted. Your stomach turned at the idea. You’d spent five years with her, how were you going to live the rest of your life without her?

You heard her footsteps as she came down the stairs, a big t-shirt and a pair of shorts, her wet hair hanging over her shoulders. This is when she was the prettiest, you swore it. She joined you at the kitchen counter as you plated the dinner, sliding hers to her and presenting her with a fork. 

She hesitantly accepted it, letting her eyes meet yours. They look glossy and a little red, you know she was probably crying in the shower, but you aren’t going to mention it. No reason. The two of you sit at the kitchen table, taking your normal seats across from each other. Your eyes meet hers a few times as you eat, neither of you saying much of anything. At this point there really wasn’t much left to say. 

She returns back upstairs as you finish off the dishes, retreating to your music room that you missed so much while you were gone. You let your pain escape you through the music, the quiet strumming of your acoustic filling the room. You play until you forget everything around you, paying no mind to the clock on the wall or the buzzing phone on the table. Here you can just be. You can just exist. Nothing hurts. 

After a while you slowly trudge upstairs, ready to fall into bed, truly dreading what tomorrow was bringing. Tomorrow your life will change, and not for the better. Opening the bedroom door you find yourself in the same position you were in last night, watching her from where you stood as she stood at the bathroom counter. 

You pulled your eyes away from her as you made your way to the closet, stripping out of your clothes. You waited for her to step out of the bathroom to speak. “I think I’m gonna grab a shower if that’s fine…”

She turned to you, “Of course it’s fine Jake…I’m gonna go to the guest room tonight.”

For some reason those words broke you. The thought of your last night together and her not next to you twisting your stomach. “You don’t have to.”

“I think I should though, this isn’t normal, this–”

“No. It’s not. Nothing about this is normal. If anything about us was normal, we wouldn’t be in this situation.” you snap, stepping out of the closet. 

She swallows nervously as she looks at you and you can tell she is fighting with herself. 

“Listen, just…I mean, do what you want, but. I’m not asking you to go. I’d very much like it if you stayed.” you admit. 

“Jake…Where was this a few weeks ago?”

“What do you mean?” you ask, leaning on the doorframe. 

“You– You broke up with me over facetime at a bar. You didn’t even care!”

You rub your hand over your face, regret washing through you in an all too familiar way. 

“You threw me out like I was…I was nothing! Now I’m packed and moving out tomorrow, and you–you– We had sex last night for Christ’s sake! Now you are asking me to stay in here with you, again? I– I just–”

“No, no, I get it, I do. I did a fucking terrible thing. You didn’t deserve that, but– fuck I didn’t know what else to do, it had to be that way…” you confess. 

“Why Jake? Why did it have to be that way?” she asks, eyes watery as she hugs her arms to her chest. 

You swallow and let out a breath, “Because I…I knew that any other way, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. I would see you and–I’d fucking crumble. I wouldn’t have done it.” you answer, letting your eyes meet hers as a sob breaks free from her chest. She turns away from you and starts to pace the room. 

“I think the thing that’s got you hung up is that you think this is going to make me happy somehow. I’m not happy about this. I’ll never be happy as far as this is concerned. I want you to be happy. I am doing the only thing I can do to ensure that. My heart is broken. Shattered. And no one is going to put it back together. But someone will for you. They will pick you up and put you back together, and hold you and never let that happen to you again. You’ll wake up one day and your heart will beat for someone else. You’ll hold them close and let them treasure you and I will be here, wishing it was me. So yes, tonight, I want you to stay in here with me. So I can hold you. So I can treasure you, before I can’t anymore.”  

You step into the bathroom, starting the water for the shower, turning to knob as hot as it will go. You let the tear slide down your cheek, stepping into the shower to wash away the evidence. You let your tears fall freely there, your heart pounding as you release the thoughts that have been living in your mind for weeks. You couldn’t bear the thought of her in someone else’s arms. Someone else knowing her like you do. Someone else loving her harder than you can. Not possible. You’re proving your love to her now, in a way she can’t understand yet. But she will. You know she will. One day.

You turn off the water, pulling a towel from the hook and wrapping it around yourself. You step out into the steamy bathroom, making your way into the bedroom, fully prepared to find it empty, but you don’t. Stepping through the door you see her in the bed, blankets pulled up over her shoulders as she rests on her pillow, looking at you.

“You stayed.”

“Of course I did.” she breathes, blinking slowly. 

You nod as you walk into the closet, pulling on a clean pair of boxers and taking a deep breath to clear your head. You step out, turning off the light, and walking towards the bedroom door to pull it closed. You turn off the lamp and pull back the sheets, sliding into the bed next to her. Your hand slides across the bed to reach for hers, finding it warm and ready to be held. 

You pull her close, her body moving towards yours instinctively, wrapping around you. You hum as she settles on your chest, but it's pained. Your heart is tearing in two, you’re sure of it. How could this be it?

“Your heart is beating fast.” she whispers against your skin.

“Always does around you.” you answer.

“How come?” she asks. 

“Don’t know, probably because I love you. You make me feel alive. My blood starts rushing around. Heart has to keep up I guess. Always been this way.” you answer, in a huff of laughter. 

“I wish things were different.”

You turn to look at her in the darkness of the room, letting your hand cradle her face. “Things are how they are supposed to be, my love.”

You feel a tear sneak out of the corner of her eye, dripping wet into your palm. “You have to trust that fate is leading you where you are supposed to go, and follow it furiously.”

“How am I supposed to stop loving you?” she asks, her voice scratchy. 

“Well, maybe you’re not. Maybe you’ll always love me just a little bit. You’ll see things that remind you of me, maybe a song, or a movie, and it will hurt. But then one day it won’t hurt, and instead of hurting you it’ll make you feel happy. And you’ll carry that happiness around with you just like you used to carry the sad. I think that's what love really is. The happy and the sad, woven into your heart. Like a braid.” you pause, petting your hand over her hair. “That’s um… That’s why I got you that bracelet.”

“What?”

“That bracelet. The one I gave you on our anniversary. It’s a braid. Remember I told you I had it made.” you continue. 

“Yes.”

You clear your throat, “It’s a braid. Two strands, one for me, and one for you.” you pause, “I wanted the two strands woven together. It was supposed to be symbolic, in a way. Show that I’m better with you. Stronger because of you. That you um– that you complete me.” 

You blink back your tears, remembering the exact reason you had the bracelet made. “The braid is always stronger than the strand alone…”

“Jake, why didn’t you– why didn’t you tell me that, that night! I had no idea, you didn’t tell me that!” she cries, “Oh I’m awful! Horrible! I couldn’t just be happy, I just– Oh the ring– Oh Jake I’m so sorry…” 

“No, no! I was going to tell you. I wanted to tell you. I was going to tell you when we got home, because–” you stop.

“Because…”

“Because there’s actually two.” you answer. “I–I have one too. The exact same. Cut from the same metal. The same braid. I made sure of it. Two of a kind.”

She wraps her arms around your stomach, pulling herself into you, burying her face into your neck. You wrap your arms around her, letting your hand pet at the back of her head while she cries. You let your own tear slip from your eye, letting the wave of emotions rush through you. 

“Where is it?” she asks. 

“Oh, I don’t know, where did you put it after that night?” you ask. 

“Not mine, yours.”

“Oh, um, it’s in my toiletry bag. I brought it with me. I didn’t want you to find it. I was never going to tell you. Thought that would be one of those sad things I carried with me, hoping that one day it would feel happy.”

“Will you keep it?” she asks. 

“Of course. I told you. It’s symbolic to me. I meant what I said. You are woven so deeply into every part of me, I am stronger because of you. Because of your strand. So I’ll keep it and wear it everyday and I hope that maybe some day you’ll see it in your jewelry box and you’ll wear yours too.”

She presses a kiss to your chest, kissing the same spot over and over. It was true, you would wear it. You’d always wear it. Your reminder of what you almost had. 

—

You wake first, the soft yellow light lighting the bedroom. It was the last morning you would wake up like this. With her next to you, watching her eyes as she dreamed. Her lips were soft, pink, and parted a little. Her breath escaping in tiny wisps. You’d miss the sound. You'd miss the tiny groan that would leave her chest as she started to wake. The way her hand would search for you when she rolled over. Everything. All of it. You’d miss all of it. 

You lay there, just watching her for a while, noticing the tiny specks of dust floating by as they would catch the light. Everything was still, and for a second you let yourself pretend everything was okay. Like your life wasn’t about to change. 

You force yourself out of the bed, letting your feet carry you quietly downstairs and to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. You knew her U-Haul trailer would be here soon, and the thought made your chest tight. You didn’t want her to go. Your house felt empty without her things in it and you knew that you could fill it with new things but it would never be the same. 

You hear her feet padding down the stairs, following the smell of the brewing coffee no doubt. She meets you at the counter as you pull a mug from the cabinet, filling it with coffee and sliding it to her. It feels sickening almost, that it's the same mug she made you the tea in a few months ago. The simple gesture that caused all of this. 

“You should, uh, take that mug. I know it’s your favorite.” you suggest. 

“I thought it was your favorite.” she says, peering at you over the rim of the mug. 

“I like it because you like it. You take it. Really.”

She nods her head and disappears from the kitchen walking back up the stairs with her mug in hand. 

—

It’s short work to load up the trailer, helping her attach it to her car, and loading in her boxes and small things. The both of you have fought tears all day, the removal of each box seeming harder than the last. You work together to make it all fit, and as the house grows emptier so does your heart. 

She can hardly speak to you without getting choked up, and you don’t blame her. You are fighting your own battle. Watching her pack her things hurts more than anything so far. She’s really leaving. 

You load up the last box, sliding the trailer door closed as she watches. You wipe your hand across your brow, letting out a sigh of exhaustion. “That’s it I think.”

She nods her head and swallows nervously. 

You lean against the back of the trailer, sliding down to sit on the bumper. “How long is the drive again? I know we made it once but I can’t remember.”

She takes a deep breath, “It’s about eleven hours. I won’t get in until really late tonight.”

“Are you sure you want to do it alone, I can probably–”

“No. No, I mean, yes, I’m sure. I will be fine. Thank you um… again for your help.” she says, kicking at a patch of grass beneath her feet. 

“Yeah, of course.” you answer, realization hitting you that she’s about to leave. “Do you want to come inside for a second?”

“Yeah, sure I have to grab my purse.” she says, following you back into the house. 

She flits past you, walking upstairs to the bedroom. You follow behind her slowly, dreading her departure. You watch her walk around the bedroom, collecting her phone and her purse as she takes one final look around. 

“This place will never be the same without you.” you say, your voice a little quieter than usual. 

She grips her purse strap as it hangs on her shoulder, your heart falling to your stomach as you notice the bracelet on her wrist. 

“You’re wearing it.” you say, gesturing to her wrist. 

“Yeah, someone special gave it to me.” she smiles softly. You swallow down the lump in your throat. 

“Where’s yours?” she asks. 

You walk into the bathroom, unzipping the small pocket of your toiletry bag and pulling out your matching cuff. You slide it onto your wrist, feeling the cold metal against your skin. You look at it, then to the one on her wrist. They’re perfect. 

“There.” you say, stepping back out to show her. 

“Looks good on you.” she says, playing with her own. 

“Better on you.” you smile back. 

She walks towards you, brushing your hair over your shoulder as her hand comes to rest on your chest. “I love you Jake. So much. I wish things were different, but you already know that. I don’t want to drag this out, I know we are both dreading this. But, I just want you to know that I love you, and I’m so proud of you. I always will be.”

You feel a tear slip from your eye, your hand coming up quickly to brush it away. “I love you, too Y/N. Always will. You’ll always be it for me.”

She swipes away her own tear, trying her best to keep from crying. “And if you change your mind–”

“You’ll be the first to know. But… I hope by then you will have a few kids. Maybe a dog.” you smile, blinking away your tears. “I want that for you.”

She smiles and nods her head as you pull her close, placing one last kiss on her forehead. You lace your hand with hers, pulling her behind you out of the bedroom for the very last time. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

You both walk hand in hand in silence, just the sounds of your sniffling. You open the car door for her, letting her slide into the driver's seat. She throws her things to the passenger seat and turns the car on, the sound causing your heart to pound in your chest. 

“Will you call me sometime? Text me every now and then? Tell me you’re doing okay?” you ask, leaning on the door frame. 

“Only if you do the same…” she answers.

“I’d like that. And if you ever want to come to a show, you’ll tell me? Bring whoever you want. VIP treatment, I promise.”

She laughs a little, nodding her head. “Of course Jake, you know Josh wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Okay, good. Um…well…” you stammer, not knowing what to do. You’ve never done this. 

“Well, I should probably…go. Um…”

“Yeah, um, drive safe, let me know when you get there. Or, I guess you don’t have to, I just…”

She laughs again, “I will, Jake.”

“Okay,” you pause, swallowing your nerve. “I love you.”

She licks her lips, biting them together before looking up at you one more time, “I love you, too.”

“Bye, Y/N.” your voice cracks with pain. 

Her eyes are glassy and red as she puts on her seatbelt. “Goodbye, Jake.”

You shut the car door, stepping back and putting your hands in your pockets. She looks at you through the window, giving you a small wave before shifting her car into drive and slowly rolling out of the driveway. 

You watch her as she drives down the street, turning the corner and disappearing from your life. You feel rooted to the spot you’re in, unable to move, unable to speak. You don’t even know if you’re breathing. She’s gone, and you’re fairly certain she took a part of you with her. 

You aren’t sure how long you stood there, your mind went blank. You surely weren’t ready to face your empty house, null and void of any and everything that had to do with her. It barely even felt like your home anymore, and that was the worst part. You would have to stay here, in this house, remembering what it was like when she was in it. The life was stolen away from these four walls, the laughter and joy that once occupied the space now just a memory. 

You’d find a new rhythm. You’d find your new normal. Maybe you would even find solace eventually. But for now you would become very well acquainted with heartache. 

—

TWO YEARS LATER

You shift your car into park in your driveway. Home. A sight for sore eyes. You’ve been gone for six months, a tour spanning Europe, Asia, South America…You name it, you were there. The lawn is a little overgrown, and the bushes need a trim but all in good time. You had the next six months off. Plenty of time to get things back in order. 

You haul your suitcases and guitars in, one at a time until your entryway is a sea of black cases and bags. You were glad to be home. Well, in your home. You found that your time away seemed to heal the wounds these four walls held. At least you could be here now. It wasn’t always that way. It was part of the reason you kept giving the green light on these long haul stretches of tour.

You make your way into the kitchen, seeing the fairly large stack of mail sitting on the counter. Your house-sitter had been thorough, sorting your mail into junk, bills, and personal. It was strange hiring a house-sitter, but your plants were still alive and the post office hadn’t held your mail for pickup. It was nice, but so different from how things used to be. 

You flip through the junk, tossing it into the trash, the bills being pushed aside for later. You grab a beer from the fridge, left so graciously by the sitter, popping the cap and drinking down the ice cold drink. You set it on the counter next to you as you thumb through the personal stack. Nothing has really caught your eye, everything falling into the trash pile, that is until you reach the bottom. 

There, with tattered edges, and a smudge of dirt is a fancy white envelope addressed to you. You would recognize the handwriting anywhere, as if the letters were tattooed onto your heart. Your breath catches in your chest, it had been months since you’d heard from her. Maybe even a longer. You slide your thumb into the envelope, tearing open the flap as gently as possible. You pull out the stiff cardstock, and your heart plummets. 

There in front of you is a photo of Y/N. Her and a man you’ve never seen in your life, looking completely smitten in black and white. She looks beautiful, glowing brightly even through the photograph. Her hair is falling over her shoulder as the man holds her tight. Her arms are wrapped around him as he kisses her cheek. The words at the bottom are what take you by surprise. 

Save The Date. 

You set the card down and let out a breath, pacing the kitchen as you rub your hand over your face. This is what you wanted Jake. This is what she deserves. She’s happy. You’re happy. Right?

You stare out the kitchen window as you mind races. You knew this was going to happen, but still nothing prepared you for it. She was getting married. To someone that wasn’t you. She was in love. With someone that wasn’t you. 

You snatch the card off the counter again, looking at her more intently. She looks so happy, and the ring is gorgeous. You never really knew what she wanted but it's almost exactly what you imagined. Big. An emerald cut solitaire. It’s nearly as beautiful as she is. You feel a lump forming in your throat the longer you look at it. The big bold words at the bottom kindly asking you to save the date for five months from now, September 21st. 

The man is not anyone you recognize. He’s tall and blonde, with a short neat haircut. He’s clean shaven and in a matching suit. He looks like he has his life together. Quite possibly the farthest thing away from you. Your eyes flick back to her, the dimple in her cheek, her beaming smile. You can’t help but to smile too. 

An audible gasp leaves your lips as you see the shiny silver cuff sitting on her wrist. Your chest tightens as you look at the same one sitting on your wrist. You wonder if she’s told him. Maybe he already knows. But part of you believes she didn’t. Part of you thinks this is a secret shared only between the two of you. You’ve thought about it several times, wondering if she ever picked it up again. If it was a staple in her wardrobe like it was in yours. You were happy to see her wearing it, and part of you wondered if she wore it specifically for you to see.

You flip over the card, reading their names, and the date of the wedding, with a simple note of a formal invitation to follow. But there, just at the bottom is a handwritten bit, written in dark black ink. 

Jake, 

The braid is always stronger than the strand. 

I understand now. 

Thank you for everything. 

xo

Your heart bursts as you read it, running your finger over the inked letters. She understands. She finally understands. 

You flip it over again, looking at her, feeling so filled with pride and happiness for her and this man. Something you weren’t sure you’d ever feel in this situation. 

Everything was worth it. Every single second was worth it.

You walk over to the refrigerator, reaching for a magnet and pinning the small card to the front center of the door. You smile seeing the Seattle Space Needle magnet, something she left behind, sitting so proudly over her wedding announcement. It almost feels like it was left here for this exact reason. To serve this exact purpose. 

It was funny how things worked out. How something so painful turned into something so beautiful. Something so bittersweet. You thought she would hate you. You thought you’d never hear from her again after she left that day. But you couldn’t have been more wrong. She continued to surprise you. Continued to support you. Continued to love and care for you, even if it was in a different way than it used to be. 

You thought that she would always see you as the villain in the story of her life. The one that broke her. The one that destroyed her. The one she regretted. The one that made her question every choice she’d ever made. You’d accepted that, happily playing that role in her story simply because it meant that you got to be in it. But today, on a windy day in April, you realized that you aren’t the villain you thought yourself to be. 

You're the hero. 

The one who saved her in the end.

Taglist: @gretavanmoon @wetkleenex-gvf @eyelinerjake @farfromthehomelands @sacredstarcatcher @britney-gvf @stardustjake @jakesmustache @starshine-wagner @mweasley19 @emsfallingsky @joopsenthusiast @ageofbajabule @ladywhimsymoon @vanfleeter @myleftsock @joshskittytickler @ageoflou @freefallthoughts @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @literal-dead-leaf @welllauragvf @writingcold @bizzielisteningtogreta @neptune2324 @itsafullmoon @violet-hayes @gvfmarge @demonrat444 @mybussyinchrist @cl0ver-j4de @earthgrlsreasy @what-i-read-home-of-reblogs-mama @mama-likes72 @lenagvf @laurngvf @racheljuneeee @farfromthehomelands @cat3rpillarbaby @cassiesgreta @jarmonicasweat@ghostly--photography @josh-iamyour-mama @raviolilegs @gvfmarge @milkgemini @jaketlove @watchingover-hypegirl @ageoflou @cl0ver-j4de @takenbythemadness @lightmyloverry

@flightofseams @torniturntomyarrow @allmylovejtk @m0uthfl13s @klarxtr @styles-canvas @fleet-of-fiction @gretavanbear @builtbybrokenbells @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @starrymoonslut @lightmy-love @edgingthedarkness @gvfmarge @dannys-dream @demonrat444 @jjwasneverhere @fleetingofthegretas @highway-tuna @gretas-sweat @darianh07 @age0fwagner @stardustjake @Catharu77 @milkgemini @watchingover-hypegirl @lightmy-love @twinszka @peaceloveunitygvf @raviolilegs @thetroublegetssoloud71 @sacredthefran @solanjjje @sanguinebats @itsafullmoon @sacredthethreadgvf @gretavanbrie

#I would read a 500 page book from you #like I’m just truly obsessed #greta van fleet fan fiction #jake kiszka

[milkgemini]

So… just… you know???

[milkgemini]

4.8.24

[milkgemini]

goodnight, bb

[milkgemini]

The hair is hairing 🤌🏽

[milkgemini]

Bye !! See you later!! I know I’m not seeing this with my own eyes

[milkgemini]

as if they‘re twins or something

[milkgemini]

oh.. so we’re just not gunna talk about THIS..???

[milkgemini]

the eye contact when his fingers are moving like that 😮‍💨

this video resurfaced on my youtube homepage and this clip has me 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ every time

if jake made this eye contact with me I would simply pass away

[milkgemini]

I just screeched in my living room

(X)

[milkgemini]

How am I supposed to just go about my day when he’s like this?

[milkgemini]

Jake on drums!

[milkgemini]

March 30, 2024