You cut me up like a knife and hung me out here to dry. You're the reason I can't sleep through the night... I wanna forget, I remember how it was; even though you're dead to me, you're always showin' up. You're my poltergeist; demon in my head, keep me up at night. I feel you when the room gets cold as ice, sinking your teeth in a bruise. You got nothing to lose, you're my poltergeist. Consume me, I'll be your sacrifice.- Blackbear, Poltergeist
Three Years Later
At nearly three years old, Cassie looked nothing like her father. Her skin was darker than his, her hair straight. She had bright blue eyes framed by dark lashes, just like her mother.
Theo, on the other hand, looked exactly like Tim. At two and a half, Theodore Hal Blanchard appeared to not take after his mother hardly at all. He had his father's bone structure, his unruly curls, even his eyes.
He was ridiculously intelligent and well-spoken for his age, too.
Tim provided Livvy with a downright ungodly amount of child support. It wasn't even court-ordered; he just sent her the money every month. Lea assumed that this was because the bastard's net worth seemed to double every year, bringing it up to its current state of $160 million. It was with the money he gave them that they paid the mortgage on their three bedroom house (Lea had managed to swing the master bedroom so Livvy and Cassie could have separate rooms). Her job as a theatrical costume designer at the local theater was going well, and she loved it. Her life wasn't so bad, considering.
Tim came to visit Cassie regularly, but Lea was always sure to leave the house well before he got there. He was consistent in giving them a few days' notice, and she used this to her advantage.
Livvy occasionally tried to convince her to stay and talk to him, insisting that it must have been a misunderstanding. Lea didn't see how it could be, though. He'd made it abundantly clear that he wasn't interested in being part of Theo's life, and if she were honest with herself, she liked it that way.
Why would she want to reconnect with the man who broke her heart? Why would she want Theo to find out his father didn't want him? There was simply no up side.
It was fine. It was for the best. It was fine.
Cassie's third birthday party was that afternoon, and Lea was looking forward to it. She always looked forward to having over her mother and sisters as well as her other best friend, Sam. Plus, Theo and Cassie got to see their friends from daycare. Tim hadn't been able to be there for Cassie's birthday the day of the previous two years, instead coming to see her a few days later. When he hadn't contacted Livvy about his plans for their daughter's birthday, both she and Lea had deduced that things would be the same as the previous years.
Lea was showered, her makeup carefully applied. Her outfit was nothing special: a nude bra from Torrid, pale pink panties she'd gotten in a discount bin at Target, a white patterned Artizia dress she'd splurged on the previous year, the soft fabric reaching her calves. She wore flat white sandals from Nine West that wouldn't be too difficult to chase Theo in and studs from Icing in the same color as the pendant on the necklace Tim had given her. She wore that, too. She usually wore it, wanting to keep a piece of him close to her in some way.
Lea fluffed her hair in her bedroom mirror, adjusting the tied straps of her dress.
"You look pretty, Mama," Theo said happily.
"Thank you, baby," she told him, ruffling his hair and holding out her hand for him to take. "Are you ready for Sissy's party?"
"Yes!" he squealed with delight.
Lea smiled down at her son, leading him out the door.
It was going to be a good day.
The first time Timothée saw her again, he half-thought she was a ghost.
He'd never been able to be there the day of Cassie's birthday before, so he was thrilled that his schedule finally allowed for it. Since Olivia was forever teasing him about his inability to show up for his daughter's actual birthday, he thought he'd surprise the two of them. Maybe he'd actually get to meet Olivia's roommate.
It was clear that the little girl's birthday party was going on at the one story house, because there was a princess carriage bounce house in the yard. No kids were out front, though, so he knocked on the door, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet and shoving his hands in his pockets, fiddling with the velvet ring box he carried with him out of habit.
There was music and children's laughter coming from inside, and he was just about to knock a second time when someone shouted, "It's open!"
So he went inside, letting the door shut behind him, and turned to the dining room directly to his right where most of the chatter was coming from.
And there she was.
She was wearing a white dress that fell well past her knees, leaning forward and instructing Cassie how to blow out the candles once they were lit. Her hair was longer than it had been before, past her waist now, and her back was to him, but that didn't matter. He'd know her ass anywhere.
It had been so long, but even now, even after over three years of not having her, the second he saw her pale skin, his fingers itched to touch it.
Timothée couldn't breathe, couldn't think, because he'd been yearning for her for so long, it felt like, and there she was, right in front of him. Then, to his astonishment, a small child emerged from the group of similarly aged children and tugged on her dress.
"Mama!" the child said. "Mama!"
Mama? he thought in a daze. She has a kid? Is she married? He considered this for a moment, but quickly decided that it didn't matter if she was married or not, if she was with anyone or not. She was his and that was that.
"Okay, okay," she said with an exasperated-sounding chuckle, leaning down to pick the child up.
Before she'd stood all the way up, however, Cassie took notice of him. "Daddy!" his daughter exclaimed in delight.
Lea didn't turn around, only leaning forward to brush Cassie's hair from her face. "Not yet, Cas," she told her patiently. "Daddy will be here in a few days, remember?"
Cassie shook her head, pointing over where Tim stood, and all the children and adults at the table turned towards where Timothée stood by the door. All except Lea. "Daddy's here!"
"Hey birthday girl," he greeted, and he knew the second Lea had fully registered his presence, because the muscles of her back tensed up, her spine ramrod straight.
Lea reached over, patted Cassie's head swiftly, then grabbed a purse that was hanging on a hook by the archway leading to the kitchen.
"Where are we going, Mama?" asked the child—Timothée was fairly certain it was a boy—Lea held.
"Grandma's house," Lea informed him as she moved into the kitchen. Her voice was quiet, but he could still hear it under the chatter in the room.
"But Grandma's here," the boy pointed out.
Lea said something in response, but he couldn't quite hear it.
He greeted Olivia, smiling politely at her. They weren't together for very long, but she knew him pretty well. She knew about the divorce and that the flings he'd had since Lea had left were to make up for her absence.
"Hi, sweetie," he told Cassie, giving her a hug and the present he'd brought with him from the car before standing back up. "Liv," he addressed softly, "is that— is it really—"
"Yes," Olivia confirmed with a nod.
"Why didn't you—"
"She wouldn't let me. Go talk to her. I'll handle the party; give me a few minutes and I'll come get Theo, too."
"Theo?" Timothée asked, glancing at Lea's retreating firm. "Is that her—"
Olivia fixed him with a look. "Talk. To. Her. If she gets to her car, I'm telling you right now: she's not coming back. Go."
He moved around the table, watching Lea hurry towards what he knew was a back door, and he stepped through the threshold into the kitchen.
"Lea?" he asked hesitantly, and the child—Theo, he assumed—turned to look at him over Lea's shoulder.
It took a few seconds for him to recognize his own eyes staring back at him.
Theo was babbling at her even as she'd opened the door and rushed outside, but she'd tuned him out. She had to. She was still reeling from hearing the man she'd gotten remotely close to getting over say her name. He'd sounded hopeful, even, like he wanted it to be her. She was fairly certain that she'd confirmed her identity for him just by ignoring him and exiting the house without so much as turning around, but she didn't have much of a choice. She couldn't handle seeing him.
She'd had a contingency plan in place in the event Tim showed up unannounced, one she hadn't told Livvy about.
She trusted her friend not to spill the beans to their mutual ex right up to this particular moment. After that point, however, Livvy was a wild card. She was too far in the camp of "Tim would absolutely want Theo if you just gave him a chance!", completely disregarding three very important facts.
First, that she had already given him a chance three years and one month ago. Second, that Livvy shipped Lea and Tim just a little too hard to be taken entirely seriously. Third, but perhaps most significantly, Tim had made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing to do with Lea or her pregnancy, which included Theo by extension. Fourth, the truth was, Lea didn't want Tim in their lives any more than he seemed to want to be there. In fact, she probably wanted to see him even less than he wanted to see her.
Oh, sure, he'd be polite and say hi and all that garbage, but she knew it was just pleasantries. He was too good of a person to refuse interacting with someone if they were right in front of him.
She wasn't above that sort of refusal, though.
Which was why she knew that the Super 8 motel nearby would give her a room for eighty bucks or less, and that she could pay in cash, and if she slipped the clerk at the front desk an extra twenty, he wouldn't ask for her ID. It was why she carried cash in the first place. It was why she kept a few essentials for both her and Theo in her car. It was why she was parked around the corner of the house instead of in front, so there would be less of a walk for her once she got out the side door.
She knew what she was doing, and she knew how essential it was—for Tim, for Theo, and most especially for her—that he not get the chance to say hello to her. Knowing Tim, he might do something catastrophic, like suggest they hang out or catch up or something. Either way, his politeness didn't bode well for anyone involved, and Lea really, really didn't want to turn Cassie's third birthday—the first one she might actually remember—into a verbal bloodbath, which it was likely going to become if she didn't get out of there, and fast.
She was starting towards her car, ignoring the way the grass got between the soles of her feet and the sandals she wore. She didn't have time to worry about that now. In a few seconds, she'd be in her car and—
And then the back door opened. It seemed Tim had deigned it necessary to follow after her, because she walked faster, and he called out, "Lea!"
Lea was actually pretty good at running while holding Theo, all things considered, but not in sandals. Unfortunately, this combined with his infuriatingly long legs meant that he caught up to her with relative ease, and she was only a few yards away from her car by the time he captured her wrist in his hand.
"Lea," came Tim's firm voice, and she could've sworn it sent her back in time. Back to sharing his breaths and touching his skin and feeling him between her legs, where he belonged, where she belonged. Back to his arms around her and his fingers in her hair and his skin against her lips and her back pressed against the wall of the dressing room of some high end retailer or another as he fucked her so hard she could barely stand afterwards, the way he said her name when he first slid into her, I love you I love you I love you I love you—
She tried to jerk her wrist out of his grip, but he held fast. "Who's that, mama?" Theo asked cheerfully.
She was about to turn around and kick the bastard in the shin when the back door opened a third time, and Lea used Tim's surprise to wrench herself free and start marching towards her car again.
Tragically, Livvy had run track. And she was wearing sneakers. As a result, she was in front of Lea fast enough to make her head spin.
Lea stared at her friend with wide, terrified eyes, pleading with her silently to get Tim to go away, just get him to leave, for the love of god, she didn't even care where he went as long as she never had to see him again, speak to him again.
Instead of answering Lea's pleading gaze, however, Livvy held out her arms to Theo. "C'mon, buddy. Let's get you some cake and ice cream. You don't wanna miss Sissy's party, right?"
"And then bounce?" Theo asked excitedly.
"Of course!" Livvy assured him, and he lunged for her. Livvy took him, and then Theo was staring back at Lea happily, a smile on his chubby face. Livvy covered his ears, looking over Lea's shoulder.
So he hasn't disappeared into thin air, then, Lea thought mournfully.
"Quit trying to run," Livvy told her firmly. "I'll watch Theo for however long you need, just— just talk to him, for fuck's sake."
Theo looked a bit confused, but it was far from the first time adults had covered his ears while they spoke.
Maybe Lea could follow after her vile traitorous excuse for a friend. They had cried over this man together, dammit. They'd spent hours sobbing in each other's arms until their throats were sore and their eyelids were raw, and this was how Livvy treated their kinship?
Still, though, following after her was infinitely better than being left alone with the absolute last person on the face of the earth she wanted to have a conversation with, let alone a private conversation. Maybe he wouldn't bother her as much if she was in the house around a bunch of kids.
So as soon as Livvy started back towards the door, Lea was heading after her, fully intending to walk in a very large circle around Tim so she wouldn't have to look at him—if she played this right, she could get through this without ever having to look at him—which was an absolute necessity due to the fact that she simply could not handle seeing him. Not in person. She'd heard his voice, he'd touched her skin, and that was more than enough, thank you very fucking much. She could handle seeing him on a screen, whether it was large or small, but she couldn't handle seeing him in the flesh.
She didn't get very far in her attempts to follow Livvy and a chattering Theo, because Tim had grabbed her hand this time, and his grip was firm and steady and familiar and warm and—
No, she told herself firmly. Nope. Not that. We're not doing that. We are past that.
"Lea," he said softly. "Look at me. Please."
She shook her head, tears falling from her eyes, and she realized for the first time that she was crying. When had that started? She wasn't sure. Whatever, it didn't matter.
"Lea," he repeated, sounding frustrated. "Turn around."
"No," she finally snapped, yanking on her hand to try and get free. "Let go! Don't touch me!"
"It is you," Tim breathed. "I wasn't sure I hadn't lost my mind until I heard your voice, I—" he cut himself off. "Turn around."
She didn't, turning her face to the ground and letting her hair fall around her in a protective curtain.
She heard the crunch of grass under his feet as he circled around her until she saw his sneakers directly in front of her. She clenched her eyes shut, hoping against hope that he would just go away, but he still hadn't released her hand.
"Look at me," he pleaded, and she shook her head again. He sighed, then reached down to lift her chin up, his grip gentle but firm, and then she had no choice but to look at him, and he was smiling softly down at her. "Lea," he breathed, sounding... relieved, almost.
The memories came rushing back like a flood— when he'd first said her name, their first kiss, and god, their last, the way he'd touched her when she'd told him she loved him, the way he thrust inside her when he said it back, oh, god, Tim—
She was paralyzed by the emotions and the memories and the overwhelmingly desperate yearning that another tear slid down her cheek, and Tim frowned, moving to wipe the tear away, but she lurched back from him like he'd burn her, which she half-thought he might.
His frown deepened as she backed away from him fearfully. From his expression and behavior, she was starting to wonder if Livvy had been right, if everything really was a misunderstanding, but the truth was, she didn't really care. She really, really didn't want anything to do with him. He shattered her once. He'd do it again, and he'd do it with the casual smile of someone who absolutely did not understand what they were doing.
Watching him look down at her, an expression of genuine offense on his face, her mind was essentially split into two camps: one was screaming a litany of, I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you— whereas the other was an equally loud, Get away get away get away get away get away get away—
He looked deflated, like he hadn't known how very clear she'd made it that she only wanted to put as much distance between the two of them as physically possible. "Who's, uh." He ran a hand through his hair. "Who's Theo?"
Lea crossed her arms over herself, taking another few steps back. "My son," she informed Tim's feet.
"Your son," he parroted back at her. She nodded wordlessly. "And how old is he, exactly?"
Lea scratched her arm. "Two."
"When's his birthday?"
She was silent for several seconds. "January."
She felt his gaze on her. "He has my eyes," Tim pointed out. "And my hair. And my bone structure, it looked like."
Lea scoffed. "I have a type. So what?"
"He literally has my face, and you're going to try and tell me he isn't mine?" Tim hissed.
"Oh, I'm so sorry you don't get to add to your count of fifteen bazillion kids," she said sarcastically.
"I have two," he snapped, holding up two fingers, then cocked his head slightly, considering. "Well, three, apparently."
"Ugh," she groaned in frustration. "He could be anyone's. Just 'cause you were my first doesn't mean you were special."
"I was to you," he insisted. "You loved me, and I loved you."
Lea rolled her eyes so hard she wondered if she'd actually damage them. "Yeah, sure. Whatever. Can I go now?"
"No!" he snapped. "No, you can't go now. Tell me if he's mine or not. I know you, and you're being evasive. Tell me the truth."
Something inside of her snapped, and she finally looked up at him. "I did, jackass!" she hissed. "I did tell you the truth! I told you the truth three years ago, and you didn't want any part of it, so you don't get to storm in and make demands." She deflated, panting. "Just go away."
"No," Tim repeated, much to her dismay. "I'm not going away. Not ever again." He examined her face. "And when did you tell me?" he demanded. "You never told me—"
She watched his expression change as he remembered something— the voicemail she'd left him, presumably. He was gaping at her, and she nodded smugly at him. "Uh huh. Yeah, now you remember." She scoffed. "Well, too bad, so sad. I don't care. I didn't want to tell you anything, but I did. I gave you a chance to be in Theo's life if you wanted to, and you said no. I don't want child support, I don't want you here, I don't want anything to do with you. Just leave me be."
"I didn't know it was you!" He raised his voice. He never raised his voice. She forced her surprise down, however, putting on a thoroughly unimpressed air. "I thought someone had found my number somehow. I didn't know it was you," he was babbling. Then, he saw the expression on her face. "No, really!" he insisted. "It came from a number I didn't recognize, your voice sounded different, you didn't tell me your name— how was I supposed to know it was you?"
Lea groaned, raking a hand through her curls to push them away from her face. He stared at her, seemingly just as mesmerized by her as she was trying so very hard not to be by him. "I don't care," she informed him flatly. "I don't care that you didn't know. I don't care that you wouldn't have told me not to contact you again if you had known it was me. I. Don't. Care. I don't want anything from you. I don't want your time and I definitely don't want your money. Go away."
This made Tim snort lightly, and he lifted his chin in the direction of the house she shared with Livvy. "So this is paid for entirely with you and Olivia's salaries, huh?"
Lea bristled. "It was less than $210,000, Tim."
"Right, yeah," he nodded agreeably. "And how much of that are you having to pay off?"
She pursed her lips at him. "I don't know exactly."
"Uh huh." He smirked, and she knew from his expression that before he'd even mentioned the house, he'd been fully cognizant of the fact that thanks to the money she and Livvy had saved up (most of it from the downright appalling sum of money he sent every month), they had put half of the total cost of the house as a down payment, which meant that they split the mortgage, each covering just over four hundred a month.
So their lives were a bit easier because of the money he gave Livvy. Big deal. It didn't matter. He didn't matter.
That's what she'd spent the last thirty-seven months telling herself. He didn't matter. He was irrelevant.
Tim was looking at her still, and she fidgeted nervously under his gaze. "I divorced Crystal," he told her finally.
Lea stared at him. "Congratulations," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
He didn't look away from her, just took a step closer. She took one back, and he sighed. "I'm not... I'm not with anyone right now, either."
Lea snorted, finding that very hard to believe. "Did your harem up and leave? How sad for you."
He shook his head, taking another step towards her. She took two back, and his lips set into a firm line. "No," he said softly, "I told the other girls that there was someone I wanted that I had lost, and I wanted her more than I wanted anyone else."
Tears filled her eyes again, and she shook her head firmly, backing away further. "No," she insisted. "Nope. Not... not listening to this. I'm not."
"Lea," he breathed, sounding very miserable indeed, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't mean to hurt you. Hurting you was the last thing I wanted. I never wanted to leave you alone when you were pregnant. If I had known..." he trailed off, watching her cover her face with her hands so he wouldn't see her crying. "If I had known, I would've been there."
"I didn't want you there," Lea snapped through her tears. "I don't want you here now, either."
"I know," he told her gently, placatingly, "but I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. Never again. I never forgot you, y'know." He reached out to brush his fingertips against the pendant she wore. "I'm glad you didn't forget me, either."
As soon as she felt the necklace shift under his touch, however, her hands fell from her face and she backed away further, until she was standing against the side of the house. Tim followed after her, his steps slow, almost hesitant.
She was shaking her head emphatically at him, but still, he kept speaking. "I could get a lawyer and take you to court," he pointed out. "I could have a judge order a paternity test so I could sue for custody to see my son, but I don't want to do that."
"You're not taking him from me," she growled, glaring fiercely up at him as he came to a stop in front of her.
"That's not what I want," Tim told her again.
She was terrified—petrified, really—to ask, but she had to. "What do you want?"
Her palms were flat against the bricks of the house, and he reached out to take one of her hands in his. She knew what he was up to, though, and hastily shoved her hands behind her back. With him so close, she felt that tingling she knew so well between her thighs, but she steadfastly ignored it.
Tim sighed in frustration, leaning one shoulder against the wall. "You," he murmured, looking down at her with hooded eyes. "I've always wanted you. I can't let you go again."
The bastard was damned and determined to rip her to shreds all over again, wasn't he?
"I'm not getting back with you," she snapped. "I'm not subjecting Theo to whatever... disgusting lifestyle you have in mind. I'm not doing it."
"I don't think you're picturing what I'm picturing, sweetheart," he told her. "Besides, you really think I'm letting you get away from me a second time?" Tim asked incredulously. "You are mine. I am never, never, letting you go. If you try to disappear on me again, I'll find you. I've found you and I'm not giving you up again. Start thinking about what kind of dress you wanna wear, because I'm not letting you refuse me."
"Are you crazy?" Lea demanded, continuing to disregard the desire pooling in her stomach, in her panties. "While you're still fucking other girls? You're— you're married, for fuck's sake!"
He shook his head, grinning down at her. "One, no, I'm divorced, remember? And two, if I wasn't, you'd still let me have you and we both know it. Three, if you do try to get away from me, I don't care. It doesn't matter. I spent three years aching for you, and I'm not spending another fucking second without you next to me. I won't do it. You're mine, you've always been mine, and there's nothing you can do about it."
"I am not—"
He leaned closer, cutting her off before she'd even finished her sentence. "If I told you to get on your knees and let me fuck your mouth right here and now, you would. If I told you to get in my car and let me take you somewhere I can remind you who owns you, you would. You wouldn't even question it. Don't try and tell me otherwise. We both know it would be a lie."
He fished around in his pocket, pulling a small ring box out. "What the hell is that?" Lea demanded shrilly.
He opened the box, pulled a ring out, snapped the box shut again, and shoved it back in his pocket. "Y'know," he began quietly, "I told myself, 'if I ever find Lea again, I'm going to give her a ring that shows her how much she means to me. How much I love her.'" He looked up at her, smiling softly as his gaze fixed upon her left hand. "I thought for awhile that nothing could possibly be good enough." He took her shaking hand in his, holding it gently, and slid the ring on her finger.
It was silver, covered in diamonds, and had a large stone the same shade of cornflower blue as the necklace.
She wasn't sure why she hadn't thought of it before, but she remembered what he'd said when he'd given it to her, that Zendaya had pulled some strings; a half-forgotten ad in a fashion magazine with Zendaya wearing what looked suspiciously like—
She didn't know why it had never occurred to her that the large blue stone might be a sapphire. She truly had no idea. Maybe she hadn't wanted to consider it.
He was watching her face, observing the expressions that crossed over it with rapt attention.
"What is this, Tim?" she breathed, staring at the ring with some strange mix of shock, awe, and horror, reaching up to touch the sapphire.
A sapphire the size of her thumb, what the fuck—
"It's called the Serpenti Ocean Treasure necklace," he informed her. "And this—" he brushed his thumb over the ring he'd slid onto her finger— "is the matching ring."
"I don't understand," she breathed shakily. "I— I don't understand."
"We're getting married," he informed her simply.
"No," Lea said immediately. "No, we're not. You can't make me."
"I could," he corrected casually, "but I won't have to. You're mine. I'll bet you haven't even fucked anyone else, have you?"
She winced, looking away from him. It was true—why bother with anyone else? No one could compare to him, and she wasn't exactly eager to bother with men a second time around—, but she hadn't intended to tell him that.
He caged her in against the wall of the house. "You're mine," he repeated. "I don't care if you've forgotten. You're still mine, and I'll take great pleasure in reminding you of that fact."
The worst part of all this was, in Lea's opinion, the fact that Tim knew her so goddamn well, even after all this time, because this meant that whatever he said about her thoughts and feelings was almost certainly true.
Which was why she was so irritated when he said, "I'll bet you're wet for me right now, thinking about how good I can give it to you." She shifted from one foot to the other, rubbing her thighs together without thinking about it. He noticed, though. "God, you are, aren't you? All you have to do is ask, angel. You know I'd give you anything you wanted."
"All I want," Lea began shakily, "is for you to leave me and my son alone."
"First of all," he started, "he's my son, too. And second, that's unfortunate, because that's the only thing I'm not willing to give you." She scoffed, looking off to the side. They were in the shadow of the house, the sunlight shining brightly around them. "But I don't think you want that. Not really."
She didn't. She could admit that to herself, in her own mind. But she wasn't about to say it out loud. She might want to give into him, but she knew—she knew—what being with him would do to her, and she couldn't afford to go through it again. "He's barely your son," she informed him. "You were there for his conception and, like, a month of the pregnancy and that's it."
"You mean I was with you for a whole month while you were pregnant," he began slowly, "and I didn't even get to enjoy it properly?"
Lea rolled her eyes. "Boo hoo," she whined mockingly, "poor Timmy, didn't get to see one of his fifteen thousand girlfriends pregnant. Cry me a goddamn river."
"Okay," he decided with a frown, "let me explain something to you, because I don't think you fully understand." She raised an eyebrow at him expectantly, and he continued. "I don't have any girlfriends. Once you left me, I realized I couldn't see anyone else romantically. Not at all. I wanted you and no one else."
"Don't tell me you haven't—"
"Oh, I've slept with other people since you, yeah," he confirmed, "but I think of you the entire time. Every single time I'm with someone, I close my eyes and pretend she's you."
Lea shook her head firmly, but he cupped her cheek to hold her steady.
"I never stopped loving you, Lea," he told her quietly as she looked up at him with wide eyes, "and now that I've found you again, I'm not letting you go. Not even if you want me to. I'm sorry. I love you too much to let you leave me again."
Her lips parted, and Tim's eyes flitted down to them. "I can't," she breathed, her tone almost apologetic. "I can't watch you with other girls again. I can't do it. It almost killed me last time."
He smiled softly at her, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "So as long as I promise never to touch another woman outside of work, you'll say yes?"
Lea shook her head, clenching her eyes shut. "No," she told him. "Not even then. I'm sorry."
He stepped back. "Why?" She opened her eyes, and he looked frustrated. Angry, even. "Why not? You still love me, I can see it in your eyes when you look at me. So why?"
She sighed, crossing an arm over herself to cup her elbow and lowering her gaze to his feet. "I believe that you would try," she admitted. "I think you really would try to stick with just me." Then the tears started again, and she wiped them away. "But you wouldn't be able to for very long, Tim," she sniffled. "I know you, and I know you'd really give it your best, but then you'll be faced with the prospect of going back to your hotel room alone again, and you'll give in because that's how you are." He started to interrupt her, but she rushed on. "And because you're such an unfailingly good person, you'd come back home to me and Theo and tell me immediately, because I know you'd want to be honest with me, and I'd just—" she cut herself off on a sob. "I'd fall apart. You'd rip me to shreds, and I have a kid now. I can't afford to let you do that to me again." A deep, shuddering breath. "The worst thing is, a concerningly large part of me wants to say yes, to follow you anywhere the way we used to talk about, but I can't. I don't get to have that. It's not in the cards for me."
Tim was silent for a few moments, listening to her soft sniffles. "Then get new cards."
She blinked tearfully at him. "Wh— what?"
Stepping towards her again, he repeated, "Get new cards." She stared at him in disbelief, so he took her hands in his, rubbing the sapphire in her ring with his thumb. "You're worried about who I'm with? That's fine. Come with me. You can come with me everywhere I go. You want me to take a few years off work so I can spend them with you and Theo, I will. You want me to come forward about being with you, I will."
More tears slid down her cheeks, and when he reached up to brush them away, she closed her eyes, trying not to lean into his touch. "I couldn't ask you to do that," she breathed. "I don't want you to put doing what you love on hold, and I know you value your privacy."
"Yeah," he agreed, "but I value you more."
His hand was on her waist, his breath was on her lips, and she realized that she was going to give into him. He wanted her, maybe even loved her in his own way, and she was going to let him make her his again.
Lea had just started to lift her chin, a sure sign that yes, she wanted this, she wanted this desperately, but then the door opened, and she was promptly brought back to her senses.
Her head whipped around, and she immediately recognized the long skirts of her mother, Rosalie, who stepped out onto the concrete, Theo on her hip.
Rosalie only required one look at the pair of them for her to deduce what was happening. Before she could make any sort of remark, however, Theo asked brightly, "What're you doing, Mama?"
Lea swallowed, and Tim stepped back from her. "Hey, sweetie," she addressed her son shakily, holding her arms out for him.
He went to her happily, immediately nestling against her. Rosalie's gaze was fixed on Tim, however. "Lea," she began without taking her eyes off him, "I don't believe you've introduced me to our guest."
She recognized it immediately when he switched into charm mode, because he cranked it all the way up. "Hi," he exclaimed with a wide smile. "I'm Timothée. It's so nice to meet you." Instead of shaking her proffered hand, he took it in both of his. Rosalie pursed her lips, but Lea knew her mother well enough to recognize the smile she was fighting. "I'm an old friend of your daughter's," he explained.
Despite being nearly a foot shorter than he was, Rosalie still managed to look down her nose at him. "I have three daughters," she pointed out. "Which one are you referring to?"
"Lea," he said with a good-natured laugh. "I spoke with Lina briefly a few years ago, but I'm afraid I haven't had the chance to meet Ari yet."
Rosalie smiled a bit at that, clearly appreciating that he paid attention to Lea when she talked about her family. She must've known the second she saw Tim, but still, she took a moment to look between him and Theo before addressing Lea directly. "It's him, isn't it?"
Tim winced slightly.
Lea said nothing.
Rosalie nodded before turning back around. "Well," she sighed, "if you want any cake, you'd better get inside before it's gone."
"Give me a few minutes with Theo here," Lea said. "Tim, go spend some time with Cassie. She's been asking for you all day."
Rosalie turned back around. "Why would Cassie be asking for him?"
Lea glared at her mother wordlessly, motioning for Tim to follow her inside.
"You're Cassie's father, too, I take it?"
Lea watched as his Adam's apple bobbed. "Um. Yes ma'am."
Rosalie pursed her lips again, but didn't voice her opinion. Lea was most grateful for this.
She stared after them as the door shut. Now for the daunting task of explaining to her two and a half year old that the man he'd just met was his father.
Joy.
Theo had handled it remarkably well. He was all excitement and bubbly energy, eager to get to know his daddy.
He'd marched right up to where Tim was standing in front of where Cassie sat, waiting patiently for her candles to be lit so she could eat her cake. Theo put his hands on his hips, looking very much like his mother, grandmother, and even his aunts, looked Tim in the eye, and demanded, "Are you my daddy?"
All chatter at the party stopped, save for the children who were too young to understand. Tim knelt down, getting on Theo's level, and said, "Hello, Theo. It's very nice to meet you. My name is Timothée." Lea watched as Tim's shoulders tensed in anticipation for their son's reaction. "And yeah, I'm your daddy."
Theo stared at his father for a few seconds before throwing his arms around him. "What took you so long?" he asked into Tim's neck.
Tim's arms circled around him, holding the little boy close. "I'm sorry, buddy. I'm here now."
"You're gonna stay?" Theo asked tearfully.
"Yeah," Tim told him softly, lifting his gaze to meet Lea's. "I'm not going anywhere." He stood, holding Theo for the first time, and Lea looked away, tears in her eyes. She wasn't sure if they were from joy, sorrow, or some fucked up blend of the two. Taking a deep breath, Tim addressed the room. "Um... hi, everyone. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Timothée."
He was met with wordless stares.
Gulping, he went on, "I just found out that Theo is my son, which is very exciting." He paused. More silence. "And I'm also thrilled to announce that now that I've found the love of my life again, we're engaged."
Lea forced out an awkward, nervous laugh. "He's joking," she assured the gawking crowd of guests. "He's not Theo's father, and we are absolutely not engaged. It's a misunderstanding."
"What's endaged?" Theo asked cheerfully.
"It's when someone is gonna marry someone else," Tim informed him with a smile.
"You're gonna be married?" the little boy clarified, his eyes wide.
"I am."
"Who?" Theo demanded.
Tim gestured to Lea.
"Mama?!" their son exclaimed.
"No, honey," Lea interrupted gently, even as Tim nodded. "He's being silly."
Theo's eyes filled with tears. "You're not marrying Daddy?"
At this point, Lea's sisters appeared to have heard enough. All the Blanchard women had a tendency to be fiercely protective of each other. It was therefore no surprise whatsoever that both her quiet older sister, Lina, as well as her carefree younger sister, Ari, stepped forward to examine the interaction between father and son, their eyes narrowed suspiciously in a way resembling Lea—even Rosalie—so closely that Timothée was downright astonished at how similar their mannerisms were.
Ari opened her mouth to say something, but Livvy spoke first. "Okay," she said cheerfully, "everybody outside! Cake and presents in a bit!"
"But why?" Cassie whined.
"Because you want to play in the princess carriage," Livvy informed her daughter helpfully.
"I want to play after I have cake," Cassie corrected.
"All your friends want to play in the princess carriage," her mother said, leading her outside by the hand. The other parents took the hint, leading their grumbling children out the door until Lea and found herself alone with Tim, who was still holding their son.
He looked like he was about to cry. "Why won't you marry daddy?" he asked, his lower lip wobbling pitifully.
"Daddy used to be my... special friend," she said delicately.
Tim snorted.
She glared at him.
"Are you special friends now?"
Lea moved into the living room, collapsing on the couch in exhaustion. Tim followed her, watching her expression closely. "No, baby," she told him softly. "No, we're not."
Theo considered this. "Why not?"
"I don't think your mama wants to be special friends with Daddy anymore," Tim explained, sitting down across from Lea.
Their son frowned outright now. "Why not?" he repeated. "Did you used to kiss like other mommies and daddies?"
Lea winced, but Tim answered on her behalf. "We did."
"The daddies at school tell the mommies they love them," Theo pointed out. "Do you tell Mama you love her?
"I haven't seen your mama in a long time," he said slowly, "but yes, I told her before you were born, and I told her when I saw her again."
Theo crossed his arms, pouting at his mother. "Then why won't you marry Daddy?"
Tim answered for her again. "She doesn't believe me."
"Would you lie to Mama?" Theo demanded, angry on his mother's behalf.
"No," his father said simply, fixing his gaze on Lea. "I'd never lie to her. It's okay that she doesn't believe me, though. I'll tell her I love her until she does. She's going to marry me anyway."
"You're delusional," she snapped.
Her tone made Theo decide to jump down from Tim's lap and run over to her, clutching the skirt of her dress. "Mama," he started, but then the front door opened.
Livvy came in, carrying a duffel bag Lea knew all too well. She shoved it into Lea's arms, grabbing her keys and wallet from her purse. "Here," her traitorous friend panted, "it's your stupid escape bag."
"How did you—"
"I'm your best friend and roommate," she snapped impatiently. "Theo, cover your ears." He did so obediently, looking on with wide eyes. "This man," Livvy started, pointing her finger at Tim, "has been in love with you for a very long time. He bought that ridiculous ring before you were even in the third trimester, and if you don't spend some goddamn time with him, I swear I'll change the fucking locks so you can't get back in." Lea clutched the duffel bag, staring up at her friend in shock. "I'm sick of hearing his mopey ass lovesick bullshit. Neither of you are moving on, so you're going to go with him to whatever stupid rich boy hotel he's staying at, and you're not going to come back until Monday."
"But Theo—"
"Theo will be fine," Livvy insisted, crossing her arms. "Go talk this out like adults. Or fuck it out. I don't care. Just deal with it."
With that, she took Theo by the hand and led him outside.
Tim was silent and motionless for a few seconds before pulling out his phone and tapping away at it. "My driver will be here in a minute or two."
Lea tensed. "I'm not going with you."
He arched an eyebrow at her, skepticism written all over his face. "Seems to me like you don't have anywhere else to go."
Lea rolled her eyes. "I could stay at my mom's," she ticked off a finger, "I could stay at Lina's," another finger, "or I could stay at Ari's." A third finger. "I'll just tell Livvy I went with you and things didn't work out and we'll never, ever see each other again. Everybody wins."
Tim stood slowly, walking towards her like she was going to book it at any second. "No," he said flatly. She bristled, about to object, but he continued before she could speak. "No, that's not what's going to happen. You're going to come back to my hotel with me. We're going to talk about this. We're going to decide on how long of an engagement we want, and then we're going to start planning the move."
"The move?!" she sputtered furiously. "I have a life here, you jackass, you can't just uproot it—"
He frowned. "You told me when we first met that your dream was to design costumes for Broadway. Is that still true?"
Lea tensed.
"I thought so," he said with a single nod. "I can get you that job, you realize. Very, very easily. All I'd have to do is make a phone call."
"I don't need your stupid nepotism—"
Tim rolled his eyes. "Why not?" he asked. "You deserve everything you want, and what I want is to be the one to give it to you."
"I don't—"
He knelt down in front of her, taking her hands in his, and her words were cut off the second she felt the warmth of his skin, his large hands holding hers. "Think about it," he begged. "Just— just think about it for a second, okay?" He searched her face, his eyes flitting between both of hers. "Whatever kind of childhood you want Theo to have, I can give him. Whatever life you want for yourself, I can give you. You wanna travel? I'll take you anywhere you want. You want Theo to attend the best private schools in the world? He'll attend the best private schools in the world. You want a job? You can have any job you want. You never want to work another day in your life? That sounds fucking fantastic, I'd get to keep you in my bed all the goddamn time—"
Lea bristled at the mention of their history, what she'd wanted three years ago.
"Just tell me what you want, sweetheart. Ask me for the world and it's yours."
She lowered her gaze to where his hands clasped hers in her lap. "Tim..."
"Come with me, mon amour," he begged. "Come with me. Let me show you how good we can have it. Let me remind you what we were meant for. Please, baby."
Her lower lip wobbled, and a tear slipped from her eye. "I can't," she breathed. "I wish— I wish I could. God, do I wish I could."
"I'm not letting you go again," he reminded her, his voice firm and gentle at the same time. "I'm asking you because I love you and I want you to choose to come with me, but even if you don't agree, you're coming with me anyway."
She rolled her eyes, another tear sliding down her cheek. "You're so goddamn controlling—"
"Yep," he agreed happily, "I'm very controlling when it comes to you. But I know you, and you think it's hot, so."
Lea pursed her lips, scrunching up her nose at him with a glare. "I do not," she insisted firmly, steadfastly ignoring the ever-present desire she felt whenever he was near. He just did that to her. It was fine. He'd always done that to her.
"You do," he said with that stupidly overconfident smirk of his. "You very much do. I'm not oblivious to the effect I have on you, y'know."
Lea looked away, blushing bright red.
"Fucking hell, you're adorable," he muttered. Then, shaking his head as if to dispel thoughts of her apparent adorableness from his mind, he decided, "Okay, time to go," and pulled her to her feet.
"What?" Lea squeaked, lurching away from him. "No, I most certainly am not going with you!"
He groaned in frustration, putting his hands on his hips. "Lea," he began with what was very obviously forced patience, "do you want our son to see his father carry his mother to the car kicking and screaming? Because it sounds to me like that's what you're going for here."
She blanched, mentally weighing her options. After a tense beat of silence, she sighed. "Fine."
Tim reached over to wrap an arm around her waist, but she backed away from him with a scowl.
"I do not want to stay with you until Monday," she griped.
"Why not?" he asked with a pout. "It's Wednesday, so we'll get lots of time together."
"Yes," Lea said slowly, as if he were a child who didn't understand something she'd just told him, "that's largely why I'm so against this."
He hummed, taking the duffel back from her despite her protests. "Hush, I'm carrying it," he brushed her off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "And anyway, you want to know what I think?"
She very much did not, actually, but he didn't give her the chance to say so.
"I think," he continued as he strolled towards the door, "that you're fully aware of the fact that you're going to say yes. I think you're fully aware of the fact that in..." He furrowed his brows in thought. "Two hours or less, I'm thinking? Yeah, that sounds about right. In two hours or less, you're going to be begging me to touch you. You know this, and it both scares and embarrasses you. It's okay, though," he reassured with a grin. "You know you never have to be embarrassed with me."
She wanted to point out that he'd said that three years ago, and therefore it no longer applied. Her body was... it was different than when he'd seen it last. It had changed with her pregnancy. She had stretch marks in places she didn't before. It didn't matter, though. She had no intention of getting involved with him again. Sure, he'd fuck her, but it would be in more ways than one, and she couldn't deal with any of them.
The party was going on in front of the house, and only Livvy seemed to notice the pair heading towards the ridiculously fancy, ridiculously shiny black car. She grinned, and Lea flipped her off. Livvy outright laughed at that.
Tim opened the door for her, and she slid in, holding her purse firmly in her lap. He popped open the trunk, closed it again, and slid in next to her with a bright smile. "Mr. Chalamet," his driver—a burly man with a bushy mustache—greeted before meeting Lea's eyes in the rear view mirror. "Ma'am."
"Hello," she greeted awkwardly, buckling herself in.
"Lea, meet Jerry," Tim said cheerfully. "Jerry, meet my fiancée, Lea."
Lea swatted his arm, hissing, "I am not—"
He grinned indulgently at her. "Whatever you say."
She glared at him, but he just nodded at Jerry, who started the engine and raised the partition. She didn't even know cars that weren't limos could have partitions.
She heard him tapping on his phone. "Who are you texting?" she demanded. He insisted she come with him and he was gonna text on the drive over?
"My mom," he told her, sounding very pleased with himself indeed. "I'm thinking a house here, one in New York, and one in LA. What do you think? Do you want more than that, or is that good?"
She stared at him, gaping. "Wh— what?"
Tim paused, lifting his gaze to hers. "Well," he said slowly, "we'll need a house. Definitely more than one, since I travel so much and I don't intend to let you stay at home all the time. We never got to travel as much as I wanted."
"You took me to Greece on a private jet," she reminded him, her voice flat.
"Ah, yes," he recalled with a smile, leaning back against his seat. "I remember. You were so loud that the flight attendants wouldn't look directly at us when we disembarked—"
"Timothée!" she gasped, horrified.
He shrugged, continuing to text. "Well you were!"
"I don't like to remember those things," Lea snapped sharply, staring out the window and watching the houses pass by as they moved closer to downtown.
"Why not?" he asked softly, sadly. "I think about them almost constantly. For a long time, those memories were all I had left of you."
"I had plenty to remember you by," she pointed out, leaning her forehead against the tinted glass of the window. "If I could've erased the memories, erased all connection to you, believe me, I would've."
He was silent for a moment. "Even Theo?"
"No," Lea told him quietly. Then, a bit louder, "I'd definitely erase his genetic ties to his sperm donor, however."
"You can say Dad," he reminded her, sounding dejected. "I'm... I'm his dad. I want to be his dad."
She closed her eyes, fighting back the tears that stung behind her eyelids. "I know, Tim," she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear her. "I know."
When they rolled to a stop in front of what she surmised was his hotel, he rushed to open the door for her, insisting on carrying her duffel bag again, as well. She rolled his eyes at his pointless attempts at chivalry.
Her feelings about the whole situation changed very quickly upon looking up and seeing the hotel he was staying at, however. She looked up at it, and there it was: a tall building covered in blue windows. He held out a hand to her, and she was so shocked by what she was seeing that she reverted back to her long-gone habit of putting her hand in his and letting him lead her anywhere he liked.
He was wearing sunglasses and a hoodie, the way he often did when he didn't want to be noticed. They walked to the hotel entrance, and looking up at him now, with the late afternoon sun glinting off his sunglasses and his hair blowing slightly in the summer breeze, it occurred to her that he was even sexier at twenty-nine than he'd been at twenty-six, which was saying something because she used to joke that he could impregnate someone from a look alone. Turns out it required a bit more than that, but y'know. You live and you learn.
"Tim," she said quietly, and he looked down at her with a smile.
She pulled her hand away, and his face fell a bit, but he still looked hopeful. Like a puppy, almost. Ugh.
"What, uh..." She gulped nervously as they stepped inside the ridiculously swanky hotel. "What hotel is this, exactly?"
He thought for a second, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head. "Ritz-Carlton, I think. Why?"
Her head was spinning. "This is a really fancy hotel," she pointed out weakly.
He shrugged, walking towards the elevator with the long, confident strides of someone who did not feel at all out of place.
They rode the elevator, and he rocked back and forth on his feet. Lea fidgeted with her hair anxiously. At the very top floor, there were three sets of doors, all very far apart from one another. Tim hummed a tune she didn't recognize as he fished in his back pocket for his wallet and before locating the keycard necessary to open the carved double doors.
When she stepped inside, her heart stopped.
Patterned marble tile in the entryway, a study to her right, a bathroom to her left, and in front of her... in front of her was a large archway, and what looked to be a living room. A large sectional sofa occupied a good chunk of the space, and a crystal chandelier hung from the vaulted ceiling. There was a TV, as well as several large floor-length windows, it looked like. She stepped inside hesitantly, feeling unsure of herself despite the ginormous-ass sapphires she was wearing.
"This..." She gulped. "This is your hotel room?"
"Yeah," he confirmed cheerfully, then paused. "Why, do you not like it? We can get a different one—"
Lea shook her head. "No, there's no need to... to do that. It's just... it's a lot. I guess I kinda forgot that you just... live like this."
His smile widened. "Now you can again, too."
She blushed at the implication that they were back together and examined her feet. "So, um... where's my room?"
A suite that huge must have more than one room, right?
He ran off to their right briefly before returning without his hoodie, sunglasses, or her duffel bag. Lea blinked at him, and he was beaming down at her. He was just so goddamn happy.
"C'mon, I'll show you around," he said with a grin. "Office through there," he declared, pointing to the right of the entryway. Then he pointed to the left. "Bathroom is there." He took her hand then, and she found herself following him again. "This is the living room, obviously," he said, gesturing around them before pointing directly ahead. "Balconies have some cool views of the city, but there are no chairs or anything."
She stared up at him in disbelief. "Sorry— balconies?"
"Yeah," Tim confirmed casually, sounding mildly impatient to get on with things, leading her left. "Bar," he pointed out as he passed a wet bar pressed against the wall. "Though knowing you, you probably still don't drink, huh? That's fine. I am definitely having a cigarette with something later, though."
Lea couldn't really blame him for that. It had been a pretty stressful day, and all he'd signed up for was his daughter's third birthday party.
"Dining room," he said as they neared a large table that sat under a proportionately large chandelier. He strolled through a doorway, pulling her after him. "Kitchen," he declared with a wave towards a small but fully equipped kitchen. Actually, she couldn't very well call it small, really, because it was approximately the same size as her own kitchen.
"And, uh..." She gulped, though she wasn't entirely sure why, exactly. "What about my room?"
Tim nodded, smiling over his shoulder at her, mischief dancing in his eyes, and her heart pounded in her chest.
He led her across the living room, past the TV, and through a set of French doors. Directly ahead of her were two sliding doors that met in the middle, leading down a hallway lined with shelves. She gathered from the clothes he had hanging up that it was a closet, but wasn't this supposed to be her room? Maybe it was a shared closet. Surely that's what it was. It had to be; he'd put her duffel bag in there.
On the other side of the closet, there was a chair sitting in front of a vanity table, it looked like. Closer to her, however, directly to her left, there was an archway through which she caught sight of what looked like an exceptionally large bathtub.
"That's the main bathroom," Tim explained when he saw her looking at it. "It has two of everything: two toilets, two sinks, two showers. Only one bathtub, though." He glanced down at her briefly. "Not that I mind, of course."
Memories of the last time she'd ridden him in the bath flashed behind her eyelids with every blink— water splashing, him licking droplets of it off her breasts before capturing a nipple between his lips and sucking, him moaning her name, her moaning his, begging him for more, god, Tim—
She shook her head slightly, and he smirked as if he knew exactly what memory she'd been visiting.
Tim gestured to an archway directly across from the one leading to the bathroom. "This is the bedroom."
The bedroom. Not your bedroom. Not my bedroom. The bedroom.
Heart thudding insistently against her ribcage, Lea tucked her hair behind her ears. "So... where do we, like." She laughed awkwardly. "Where do we sleep?"
He frowned at her. "In the bed...?"
She'd been afraid of this. Pursing her lips, she grabbed her duffel bag.
"Where are you going?" Tim asked, sounding a bit concerned.
"To change. None of these rooms have any real doors," she pointed out, heading off in the direction of the half-bath in the entryway.
"Oh," he said. "There's sliding doors and stuff..." His voice was a bit hesitant when he called after her.
"I'd prefer something with a lock."
With that, she locked herself in the small bathroom. Actually, in retrospect, this "tiny" half-bath in her ex-boyfriend's unnecessarily large hotel suite was approximately the same size as her own bathroom, and she had the master, for god's sake. Ugh.
Either way, she changed into her most modest nightgown, choosing to leave her bra on.
There was a blanket in her duffle bag that she had every intention of wrapping around her so he couldn't see her in her nightgown. It wasn't even that immodest, really. It reached just above her knees, showed no cleavage whatsoever, and had a cute ruffle at the bottom. Plus, she'd gotten it on clearance at Target. The issue was that it was partially see-through. This meant he'd be able to see her panties and bra through the thin white linen, which was... unacceptable, quite frankly. Hence, blanket.
But still, her makeup. Especially that lipstain and mascara, ho boy. She needed some kind of remover before she went to sleep or she'd break out like she was thirteen all over again.
"Tim," she called once she'd fished through her entire duffel bag. By the time she stuck her head out of the bathroom door to call for him again, he was standing right outside, looking entirely too pleased that she'd called for him. Lea fought the urge to roll her eyes. He was so transparent. "I don't suppose you have any makeup remover?"
He furrowed his brows, considering this before nodding and running off again. When he returned,
It was with a bag of cotton balls and a small bottle of what was likely very expensive makeup remover. She took one look at it and decided immediately that she'd use it very sparingly. It felt... wrong to use his things when they weren't together, weren't even friends. The more expensive the thing in question, the more wrong it felt.
"Do you need anything else?" Tim asked eagerly.
"No thank you," she told him politely, smiling tightly and shutting the door again. She heard him sigh once the lock clicked into place, and it was a good thirty seconds before he walked off again.
By the time Lea finished removing her makeup, she had decided that she had long since earned a nap. She liked to be cocooned in when she slept, and since she couldn't very well sleep in his bed, the shorter side of the sectional would do perfectly. She had to curl her legs up slightly in order to lay down, but once she'd covered herself in her fuzzy blanket and lay her head on one of the throw pillows, she sighed with contentment.
Yeah, she was essentially in hell. In fact, despite being agnostic and therefore thoroughly undecided on the concept of an afterlife, Lea wasn't entirely sure she hadn't died and promptly descended into an eternity of being around her ridiculously attractive ex-boyfriend that she was very much still in love with but not allowed to have for her own sanity and the well-being of her child. In any case, if hell existed, this exact scenario was likely hers.
However, despite that, she was comfortable. She was warm, she was cozy. Maybe it was her exhaustion, but even her bra wasn't bothering her. She'd just started to drift off to sleep when a voice startled her.
"Lea?" Tim asked, sounding concerned. "Shit, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, but what're you doing out here? The bed is way softer, and the pillows are just the way you like them. It even has curtains around it to block out light."
She was so tired. So very, very tired. And sleeping in a bed that smelled like Tim after so long? Forget hell, that sounded like heaven.
"You don't have to sleep here, sweetheart," he told her gently. "Will you let me carry you to bed?"
Lea's eyes were half-closed, but she nodded at him, too sleepy to remember why agreeing was a bad idea. "Mhm," she hummed, smiling softly at him.
He smiled back at her, gently pulling the blanket from her body. She didn't notice the way his breath hitched when he saw her nightgown riding up her thighs, or the way one of her breasts appeared to be falling out of her bra because she was laying on her side.
When he picked her up, cradling her to him, she nestled her head into his shirt, inhaling deeply with a contented smile. She was barely awake, and with him holding her like that, it was like the past three years hadn't happened and he was carrying her to bed after a long day.
"Tim," she signed happily.
"I'm here, baby," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her hairline. "I'm here."
He lay her down, pulling the covers up over her. She nestled in, then frowned when the underwire of her bra constricted against her ribcage, the straps digging into her shoulders. "Tim," she complained lazily.
"Yeah?" he asked as he pulled the balcony curtains closed.
"Can you help me with my bra?"
He took a deep, shuddering breath. "Of course, angel."
Lea turned over, and he reached beneath her nightgown to undo her bra expertly, sliding the straps from her shoulders. She pulled the offending garment the rest of the way off, flinging it across the room in annoyance. It landed on a couch that was up against the wall, and Tim stared at where he could now see the shadows of her nipples through the fabric of her nightgown, the way her breasts moved as she breathed, and he couldn't help it. He stripped down to his boxers and got in next to her, pulling the curtains around the bed closed.
She immediately nestled in close to him, assuming the sudden weight on the mattress was Theo. "Did you have a nightmare, sweetie?" she asked, almost entirely asleep.
Tim cupped her cheek, tracing the lines of her face with gentle fingertips. "It's me, Lea."
She smiled softly, shifting closer to him. "Tim."
"Yeah," he breathed. "God, I missed this with you. I missed you so much, baby."
Lea hummed, mumbling, "'m here." She yawned, burying her face in his neck. "Love you."
He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her as close to him as she could possibly get. "I love you, too."