Pete:
"I'm home," you called as you stepped into your and your husband, Pete's house. You had just gotten back from a girls night with Marie and Elisa, and as much as you loved spending time with them, you loved spending time with your boys even more.
"Mommy!" Your son, Bronx squealed, throwing himself into your arms. A look of fear was plastered across his face.
"What's wrong, baby?" You asked, hugging him back tightly.
"It's Daddy," he explained, his eyes wide from fear. "He yelled at me for no reason, and now he won't come out of his office.
"Shoot," you mumbled to yourself. He only acted like that when he didn't take his medicine. "How about I go talk to Daddy, and you stay here and draw Mommy a picture?"
"Okay," he agreed. You kissed his forehead, then made your way down the hall, and to Pete's office.
"Pete?" You gently tapped on the door.
No response.
"Pete, I'm coming in," you announced, before pushing open the door. He was sitting at his desk in the dark. The only light was coming from his laptop screen, and was illuminating his face.
"What?" He glared at you, obviously annoyed.
"I just got back from dinner," you explained, flicking the light switch. "Baby, you've got to turn the lights on in here."
"Fine," he rolled his eyes.
"Honey, did you remember to take your medicine today? Bronx said you yelled at him for no reason."
"God damn it, (Y/N)!" He screamed. "Can't I just be in a bad mood for once? You always assume that I'm pissed because I didn't take my meds!"
"Pete, calm down," you raced over to him, and placed your hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him.
"Don't fucking touch me," he boomed, pushing you away from him. You slammed into the wall, and tears stung your eyes.
"Bronx!" You called out to your son.
"Yeah, Mommy?" He stood in the doorway, too terrified to come any closer.
"Can you do Mommy a favor and grab your suitcase, please?"
"Okay," he nodded, noticing the urgency in your voice.
"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"
"Don't talk to me," you muttered, leaving the room, and going to your bedroom.
"I got it!" Bronx announced a moment later.
"Could you please put in a few t-shirts, some pants, and a couple pairs of underwear?"
"Sure!" He agreed.
"Thank you so much, Bronxy. How about you put some toys in there too? Don't forget the stuffed animals you like to sleep with."
"Answer my questions. Where are you going?" Pete repeated.
"Away from here." By now, you had finished your packing, and we're moving on to Saint, who was currently laying in his crib.
You grabbed his diaper bag, and threw in a few extra sets of cloths, diapers, pacifiers and his favorite toys. You scooped up your son, and went to the front door, where Bronx was already waiting with his Spiderman suitcase.
"Ready to go, Buddy?" He nodded, and you lead him out to the car.
"Where are we going, Mommy?" He asked as you buckled him and his brother into their car seats.
"We're going to stay with Nana and Poppy for a little while."
"Your parents?" Pete questioned. "Really, (Y/N)?"
"Where the hell else am I supposed to go. You need time to cool down. Goodbye Pete." And with that, you pulled out of the driveway, leaving him standing on the porch.
Patrick:
"Dinner was fun, wasn't it?" Patrick asked, letting out a nervous chuckled. You glared at him as he shut the drivers side door.
"You didn't tell me your mother was going to be there."
"I'm sorry," he sighed. "I honestly feel bad, but you wouldn't have come if you knew she was going."
"That's the point!"
Patrick had planned a fancy dinner with his sister and brother, and their spouses. You usually loved spending time with his siblings and their significant others. The six of you usually has a great time together. Patrick's mother, well... that was a whole other story.
Trying to avoid Mrs.Stump was usually the best option, but you could usually handle her if you gave yourself a few days of mental preparation. Both you and Patrick hated how she would always compare you to his ex-wife, Elisa, and that seemed to be her favorite thing to do. Honestly, you only tolerated her because you knew how strong her and Trick's relationship was.
Tonight, Patrick told you that it would be just the six of you, as it usually was. But when you showed up to the restaurant, there was an extra person waiting at the table. It didn't upset you that she was there, what upset you was that he didn't tell you.
"Are you mad at me?" He nervously but his lip.
"No, it's all peaches and cream," you muttered sarcastically.
"I'm sorry, (Y/N). I really am."
"If you were sorry, you wouldn't have done it."
"It's just that you both are really important to me," he signed, ignoring your comment. "It makes me sad that neither of you can get along, because I want to marry you someday, and I want Mom to respect that."
"Y-you want to marry me?"
"Someday," he blushed, realizing what he said.
"I want to marry you someday too, Patty," you grinned, leaning across the cupholders to kiss his cheek. "And sorry I don't get along with you're mom. I'll try harder next time, okay?"
"Okay," he nodded. "I don't expect you two to be best friends, but a simple conversation would be nice. And I'll be talking to her as well, don't worry."
"I think that was our first fight," you giggled.
"Yeah? Well I'm glad we settled it easily. I hate it when you're mad at me."
"Same."
Andy:
"Here's the bill," the peppy brunette waitress smiled, placing the check down on the table between you and Andy. "Whenever you two are ready."
"Okay, thanks!" You said politely. As if on cue, both you and Andy reached for the receipt.
"I don't think so, baby," he smirked.
"But you always pay," you whined.
"Exactly. Why change things up?"
"Because change is good."
"But the guy always pays," he fake-pouted.
"Ugh, girls can pay every once and awhile. Seriously, Andy. Let go."
"Not gonna happen."
"Are we all set?" The server returned to find you and your boyfriend in an intense match of tug-of-war over the bill.
"Here," you started digging in your wallet for an attempt to find your credit card. Andy was faster, and was already shoving a wad of bills at the poor lady.
"Whatever you do, don't let him pay," you practically threw the card at her.
"No, it's her birthday," he lied. "She can't pay."
"But he recently got fired, and that's all he has."
"How about you two just split the bill?" The terrified waitress asked.
"Fine," you sighed. She snatched the money away before you could do anything crazier.
"Why do you want to pay so badly?" He asked.
"Because I feel bad," you admitted. "You do everything for me. It's the least I could do."
"You loving me pays back every penny," he grinned, and kissed your cheek.
"Then it looks like I'm not going to owe you anything."
Joe:
"What do you mean it doesn't mater?" You screamed at your boyfriend, Joe.
"I was drunk," he shrugged, as if cheating on you wasn't a big deal. "So technically it wasn't my fault."
"Not your fault?" You repeated in shock. "Being drunk doesn't take the hurt away, Joe."
"I'm sorry." You could tell by the tone of his voice that he didn't mean it.
"No, you're not! I'm not stupid, Joseph, this isn't the first time you've had sex with another girl behind my back. How can I be sure that this isn't the last?"
"Would you rather me tell you 'see you later, (Y/N), I'm going to go fuck some girl I met at the bar?' And you can't be sure that it's the last. That's just the way I am. If you don't like it, then leave."
"No, you leave. This is my apartment, and I'm not sure that I want you here right now."
"You're breaking up with me?" He raised an eyebrow, as if he was amused.
"No, I just need some time to think. I don't know if I want to keep living like this, Joe. I'm going to give you the chance to change. If you want to, then great, but if you don't, I can't be sure I want you in my life anymore."
"Fine." He got up, and went to the bedroom. He returned about half an hour later with his bags packed. "I'll be at Pete's if you need me."
"Joe, I love you," you reminded him, wrapping in a hug. "You just need to choose, me, or those other girls."
"(Y/N), you know-"
"Please," you interrupted him. "Just think."
"Whatever. See you around, I guess..." he slammed the door, leaving you to make the most important decision of your life.