I cried the whole way home. Thatcher told me he knew something was wrong when Maverick came to pick up Bo. Other than that we haven't spoken much. We're both just so tired of everything. Ever since Rule and Ren died, we've both been so on edge and sad all the time. I think that contributed a lot to Marshall and I's fight.
Right now, Thatcher and I are sitting on my bed with our backs against the headboard. It has definitely been one hell of a night.
"So are you not friends with Maverick anymore?" He asks me after I've stopped crying.
"I don't know." I shake my head.
"I can't believe he left you there. I know Marshall was there but that doesn't seem like something Mav would do."
"I thought I knew him, but there were some guys at the ring that recognized him. I think they were scared of him." I take in a deep breath and exhale it slowly. "Clearly I don't know him as well as I thought."
"And Marshall?" He prompts, just trying to make sense of the whole thing.
"Marshall." I say, my eyes instantly refilling with tears at any mention of his name. "He told me that getting back together was a mistake." I feel the crying in my stomach and it boils up until the tears rain out of my eyes. "I think we broke up."
"You know what Rach?" He asks, putting his arm around me and letting me cry into his chest. "Fuck him. You don't need to be treated like this anymore."
"I can't just say 'fuck him' and move on Thatch." I explain, blinking desperately trying to calm down. "I love him."
"I know you do, but at some point this is just gonna keep causing the two of you pain." He tells me, rubbing my shoulder. "I just don't like seeing you hurt Rach, that's all."
I cry only for a moment or two longer and then just lay there with him. This sucks. I hate fighting with Marshall so much. He becomes so hateful and knows exactly what will hurt me the most, it's almost like he's a different person. His anger speaks for him, and I know he doesn't mean much of what he says but I feel like if he loved me as much as he said he did he would've done something to control it. He can't say that stuff to me, I would never throw something like that in his face no matter how mad I am.
I sit up again and check my phone, I had put it on silent because I knew he would try to call me. He's texted twice, no calls. I don't want to open them but I know that I have to. They're from an hour ago, and I pull them up.
Marshall: Tell me when you're home, please. I need to know you got home safe.
I should've never let you walk. Rachel I know you're pissed, just answer me.
I'm in this midst of typing a response when there's knocking on our front door. Thatcher rolls his eyes and stands up. We both know who it is.
"Let me guess." He says. "His sorry ass is here to apologize."
"Will you just go down there?" I ask him and he looks at me with concern in his eyes.
"What should I tell him?" He asks, crossing his arms.
"I don't know." I say.
"Well do you want to talk to him?" He tries again as the knocking persists.
"I don't know." I rub my eyes, I want this over with.
"I'll send him up, you can always kick him out." He tells me, and disappears down the stairs.
I start to breathe rapidly, I don't know what's going to happen. I wish I'd had more time to think. I wait very anxiously in my bedroom until I hear heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. They stop momentarily in front of my bedroom door and then he gently opens it. I pull my knees to my chest, holding them tight trying to literally hold myself together.
He enters and shuts the door behind him, officially separating us from Thatcher and the rest of the house. I'm expecting him to come onto the bed with me but he sits down with his back against the door, leaning on it. He's being careful, keeping his distance.
"I know you don't want to talk to me." He says quietly. "But I think we should try."
I don't say anything, I just look down at the bed hugging my knees. Everything is so tense, and I wish he'd stop looking at me. I don't know what to think, I don't know what to do, I wish I had more time to compose myself but now that he's here I don't want him to leave.
"I'm sorry I brought Maverick up again." He tells me, his voice is low and I know that he regrets it but I'm not sure that he's sorry. "I was just angry and I only said it to hurt you, I feel awful about it."
"You should." I whisper into my knees but he catches it.
"I do." His voice starts to shake, he's nervous. "It's hard for me. It probably always will be." He rubs his eyes and then props his knees up. "I almost wish it had been someone we don't know, someone I'd never have to look at. But because it was him...he's my friend. It hurts so much more."
"I don't like him like that Marshall." I say quietly, crying yet again tonight.
"I know." His voice cracks, and I can hear him breathing all the way over here. "I'm so sorry baby."
"We keep going in circles." I manage to get that out without sobbing. "We've had this conversation a thousand times before."
"Rachel-"
"You said getting back together was a mistake." I remind him, silently letting even more tears flow out.
"I didn't mean that." He shakes his head. "I was so mad at you and Maverick and everything that I couldn't think straight." He stutters on his own breath. "Rachel I'm not ready to let you go. It may be different for you-"
"It's not." I shake my head, this hurts so much. "But you can't get mad like that. It scares me."
"I don't want to scare you, I don't mean to Rachel." He implores. "I just didn't want you to put yourself in that type of danger. After thinking about it, I'm glad Maverick was there."
"Didn't seem like it." I shake my head.
"I heard you say he was hurting you, and then I saw him grabbing you and I-" He stops to regroup and take a deep breath. "I saw him hurting you and it made me want to hurt him."
"You have to manage your temper." I explain, remembering the feeling of those words coming out of his mouth. "You keep reminding me about him, you make me feel horrible about myself sometimes. I know you don't mean it but you shouldn't say it."
"I know." He nods, and leans his head back against the door letting his tears come. "I hate myself for making you feel that way. I know I shouldn't bring it up."
"What happened tonight, hurt me so bad." I tell him, looking away and shutting my eyes as the tears squeeze themselves out. "No one can hurt me like you can, and you did."
There's a moment of silence and when I open my eyes he's sitting next to me in the bed, looking at me with regret. He's concerned, and I know he's trying hard to hold himself back from hugging me.
"I hate myself for hurting you." He tells me, staring deep into my eyes. "Baby I'm not ready to lose you. I didn't mean any of it, please I'm sorry."
"You can't threaten to break up whenever you get mad." I whisper, wiping my cheek with the back of my hand. "I want to try again but we've just been fighting so much. Maybe we are better off without each other."
"Maybe we are." He nods, and he lightly turns my head to face him. "But I'd rather fight to be with you than just be better off without you."
"Marshall I want this to work, I'm trying. But you get so mad..." I explain again, I just don't know what to do. "I was scared of you tonight."
"Why?" His voice shakes with concern and I can't tear my eyes away from his. "Did you think I would hit you?"
"No, I know you wouldn't." I shake my head. "I don't know what exactly was scaring me about you, but I know that I was."
"You've given me way too many chances." He acknowledges, hesitantly placing his hand over mine. "I don't deserve another one. But Rachel I love you, and I won't let this go."
"I just don't know Marshall..." I say softly, shaking my head slowly. "I can't keep doing this with you. It's tearing me apart."
"Hearing you say that hurts." He tells me, sniffling.
"Well it's true." I look away and begin to cry again. "I don't know what to do."
"Well what's stopping you?" He asks quietly, crying to himself. "You have every reason to leave me, so why don't you?"
I turn to look at him and he slowly locks eyes with me. His blue eyes seem beautifully accompanied by his tears. The redness in his eyes brings out the blue, they're beautiful like that.
"Because I still love you." I whisper to him.
He leans forward a little, just enough so that I can feel his breath on my lips. Slowly I feel his hand lift off of mine and then fall lightly on my cheek. I brace myself, for some reason this seems important, like it's another first step towards patching things up.
And then he leans even more, softly pressing his lips on mine. The fire in my heart ignites as soon as we touch, and as we continue his kiss becomes more desperate. I can feel him shaking against me, I've never seen him so nervous before. I lightly separate us, but he refuses to let go, clinging to my hips.
"You're so nervous." I say quietly.
"I don't want to screw this up again." He admits, taking in a shaky breath.
"There are things I want to know." I tell him, touching him lightly on the cheek.
"I will answer any questions you have." He nods, touching my wrist gently with his fingertips. "Anything you want baby I mean it."
"I want to go to sleep, I'm too tired for any more of this tonight." I feel my head starting to pound from all the strain it's been put under.
Before he can answer Thatcher knocks on my bedroom door.
"Yeah?" I ask, slightly annoyed at his interruption.
"Rach, um, Maverick's at the front door." He calls through the door. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do."
I look at Marshall and I know he's upset, his eyes can't lie. Maverick is not at the top of the priority list right now, I need and want to be with Marshall.
"Tell him to go home Thatch." I say, and Marshall's eyes instantly lighten.
"I tried babe, he just won't leave." He says exasperated, leaning his head on the door.
"Tell him Marshall's here." I say, a sincere severity in my voice that is well needed.
"Okay." Thatch calls one last time and I hear him walk down the stairs.
I look at Marshall again and I can't tell if he's thankful or confused. But I kiss him once, letting him know that I meant what I said. He tries to pull away but I hold him to me, brushing our chests.
"I should go..." He says, and starts to get up.
I feel my heart sting as he moves away so I grab his bicep, pulling him back. I shake my head to let him know that I want him to stay. Even though I'm mad, and tired, and upset I still want him here. Strange as it is, I want his comfort at least for tonight.
Marshall's eyes immediately soften, and I press my body against his. I just want to hold him for a bit. I don't want him to go home hating himself, that effects him so much more when he's alone. As far as I know he hasn't had a panic attack in a long time and I don't intend to have him start up again now. I still love him, I don't want him to do something stupid if he's by himself.
"Stay." I tell him, and he leans his forehead on mine.
"Are you sure?" He asks, a neediness in his voice that wasn't there before.
I nod and he rubs his nose on mine, the way he does before we kiss. But I pull away, standing up from the bed to get into my pajamas. I feel him watching me as I take off my jeans, then my shirt, fishing around in my dresser for his black t shirt.
A chill runs down my spine when I sense him behind me, slowly I turn around and he's standing there bare chested and offering me his shirt. I half smile and take it from him, putting it on. He looks at me while he undoes the button of his jeans, stepping out of them. I crawl into bed, and he wedges in next to me. Pulling my body to his and kissing me gently.
"You're warm." I say, snuggling up against his chest.
He tilts my chin up and kisses me long and hard. I kiss him back, pushing our lips together even more than they already are. A big tattooed arm pulls me to close the gap between our torsos. I wrap my arms around his neck, just wanting to kiss him. I lightly take his bottom lip between my teeth and tug at it gently, I know he likes that.
I feel his response almost immediately, but I know both of us just want this type of intimacy for now. After all we still have a lot to talk about, and he promised to answer all my questions. I can't help but feel like he's different this time, like he actually one hundred percent means what he's saying. Like he's actually going to keep his promise.