The drive back home is quiet.
Mostly because Ezra is passed out from the festivities, letting out soft open-mouthed baby snores every so often. The sky is dark now, looming London clouds promising rain at some point overnight. The streetlights rhythmically flood the car with light every time you drive beneath one.
"(Y/N)—"
"Not now."
The car is quiet the rest of the drive.
Eventually you pull into the driveway, and you move to get out. Tom doesn't though, because you can see him still buckled with his head in his hands through the windshield. You sigh and move to get Ezra out of the car; moving slow when the boy makes a tired sound of protest, but he just rests his cheek on your shoulder and returns to sleeping.
Tessa hops out as well and you lead her inside the house.
You head straight for Ezra's room. With expert maneuvers you pull back the boy's bedding and lay him down. The boy's eyes flicker open for the briefest of seconds but only to make grabby hands at Sprinkles and Hulk. You hand him both plushies and the boy holds them tight and with a tiny yawn lets his head fall against his pillow.
With a fond smile on your face you pull the covers up and tuck Ezra in, moving his hair back and out of his eyes. He needs a haircut desperately. Then...then all the emotions you had held back at the Holland's house come bubbling to the surface all at once.
I love you, you sign to the sleeping child.
Then you flick on his nightlight before exiting the room, shutting the door as softly as you can. You march to your room...which has admittedly become less and less your room and more of a guest room. Most of your clothes are in Tom's dresser in his room, and yet you manage to find a pair of old leggings and an even older tank top. You slip into them, leaving the clothes you wore a moment ago on the floor, feeling too lazy to pick them up.
The only thing you go into Tom's room for is a hoodie and a pair of your cozy socks.
You leave the room as quickly as possible, walking back into the living room the same time Tom finally walks through the front door.
"Go change, I'll be on the couch when you're ready," you say calmly.
Tom nods, "alright."
He brushes past you, his arm grazing yours, and your stomach has the audacity to swoop. Fuck.
You round the plush grey couch and fall into the corner of its "L" shape, pulling the soft throw blanket over yourself. While Tom changes you mess around on your phone for a little, texting and snapping a few of your friends and of course Josephine too. A few emails pass the time as well, but before you know it Tom is back in the room and sitting beside you on the couch.
Not too far, but not close either.
"What," you breathe, putting space between every word, "the fuck was that?"
Tom tenses a little, and you opt to wait for him to speak on his own terms.
"I went to go get the stupid pumpkin," Tom starts...
..."Come on Tess!"
The walk is brisk, the biting October air is unforgiving, and it'll only get worse as time goes on. Tom sinks into his jacket and scarf a bit to try and keep warm.
By the time he makes it to the store a few blocks away, he is more than ready to go inside. In the store window reflection, he can see how red the tips of his ears and nose have gotten. He leads Tessa over to the outdoor selection of pumpkins and looks around for one that is a good carving size, but also something he can carry a few blocks.
He's about to pick one up, to make sure it's the one, when a hand taps his shoulder.
The first thing that comes to mind is a fan or two, and he's more than happy to snap a quick picture with them. So, he puts on a smile and turns on his heel, facing the person behind him. When his eyes finally see the person, the smile on his face fades away and panic flows through him like a volcanic eruption.
Elizabeth.
Her hair is longer than he remembers, and she's wearing lipstick which she never used to wear. Something about them being too drying...or something. His eyes look over her light coat and her equally light boots. She looks put together, not so much like that overloaded teenager he once loved.
Tom looks back up and meets her eyes, the very same eyes he sees every day from his son. Now that Ezra is older, he can see the uncanny resemblance between the two. The eyes, the shape of his pouty lips, and even the tint of his skin. All from her.
"Elle?" Tom asks.
"Hey Tommy," Elizabeth says with a pearly white smile.
The nickname is like a punch to the gut, his head spinning with old memories and desires. Except he snaps back from it when he remembers how she left things; how she left him and Ezra. With a cold stare and calling him Thomas. It makes his heart pull in different directions and he's not sure which one to follow.
"How is he?" Elizabeth asks on her own accord.
This surprises Tom, because the last time they were together in that stupid NICU she wanted nothing to do with her son. Maybe time changes people, maybe she wants to be in Ezra's life even if it's just occasional updates from him and she sends a Christmas card every year.
He thinks of (Y/N), his stomach swooping a little, himself feeling dirty for having any thoughts about Elizabeth. He knows he is in love with (Y/N), maybe not ready to say it, but he knows she is something special. Something he wants to treasure. Ezra looks at her like she hangs the moon every night and lifts the sun every morning.
Hell, Tom probably looks at her like that too.
Elizabeth is just...Ezra's biological mother who up and left without hesitation. Still, if she wants in on Ezra's life, he's not going to cut her off, but she has to truly want it.
"He's good. He'll be four right after the new year," Tom says, holding Tessa's leash a little tighter, "do you want to see a picture of him?"
Her eyes light up and Tom digs out his phone, cold fingers pressing its screen efficiently to get into his photos. He finds a recent one, it was while making dinner and (Y/N) thought it'd be a good idea to make a desert too. Ezra is sitting on the counter, curls wild on his head and his grin wide, a metal bowl in his lap with a whisk in hand filled with chocolate batter and chocolate chips.
He shows it to Elizabeth, her face going soft but also slightly critical.
"He looks like me," Elizabeth notes.
Tom chuckles, "yeah. He has my energy though, bouncing off the walls every minute."
With that he pockets his phone.
The silence between them is awkward.
"How've you been?" Tom asks curiously.
Elizabeth shrugs, "fine. Been to university, living in Bristol for my job now."
"What has you here?"
"Nick's getting married."
Nick is Elizabeth's older brother, and he hated Tom with a passion. He remembers the days after Elizabeth was discharged from the hospital, but Ezra was still in intensive care. Nick had shown up, telling him how much he ruined his sister's life and how him wanting the baby was selfish...not thinking of Elizabeth's future enough.
Tom hates Nick too.
"Congrats to the happy couple then," Tom nods.
Elizabeth shrugs, "Alice is okay. She's nice enough."
The iciness she used to give off is still there, he can tell, hiding under the warm and fuzzy front.
"What about you? Other than the big-time move star thing you have going on," Elizabeth asks expectantly.
Like what? He's supposed to live in some Hollywood Hills mansion and be loaded for the next million years?
Tom shrugs, "I still live here—"
Elizabeth pulls a face.
"—and I'm just raising my son. I was actually about to grab another pumpkin. We're all carving at Mum and Dad's."
"Sounds fun," Elizabeth nods and steps beside him to reach for two pumpkins, holding them up. They're modest in size but they have even flat faces that would actually be pretty good for carving.
"You should join us."
Tom freezes after he says it. Why did he say that? Except it's too late to take back the offer because a predatory grin crosses her pretty face and she's nodding while marching inside to pay for the two pumpkins herself. It leaves him dumbfounded on the sidewalk, not really knowing what to do with himself...
..."So, you just surprise invited her?" You ask, frowning as you pull your blanket covered knees to your chest.
"I don't know why I did it," Tom says, "instincts? To pride myself that I can raise him without her? Give her a chance I just knowing him? I know that I fucked up big time. Trust me I know."
You take a brief moment to let that settle with you, and of course it doesn't settle well but it does nonetheless. For whatever reason you can't help but sort of get his points—this is woman who birthed his child, maybe not his mother, but without her Ezra would not be here. Maybe he feels like he owes her something still.
Maybe he's not as healed from it as you'd initially thought.
"I can't just be the nanny you occasionally fuck when you feel like it," you say bitterly, keeping to your standards.
Tom goes as taut as a bowstring, eyes wide and almost hurt. You regret saying it so bluntly but before you can backpedal hands are cupping your face and you're forced into sustained eye contact. Tom's eyes are watery, and you feel your heart trip in your chest as your own emotions threaten to boil over.
"You're so much more than that," Tom defends.
"Today showed me otherwise," you say.
Tom shakes his head, his curls bouncing with the movement, a tear falling down his cheek. You can't stop yourself as you lift your thumb up and brush it away. He leans into your touch and you carefully shove yourself forward. Arms instantly accommodate your presence, wrapping around and holding you close. You tuck your face into Tom's neck, settling in his lap with your blanket wrapped around the two of you.
"You can't ask me to stay and fight for us when you do stupid shit like that," you mutter.
"She's never going to change," Tom croaks out, understanding dawning on him.
You hold Tom tighter, "she doesn't matter anymore. You've got me, and Ezra, and Haz, and your family, and in a way my family too."
"You should be angrier at me," Tom says.
"And what good would that do? I am upset Tom, I had to question us on the spot in front of your ex who happens to be the biological mother of your son..."
Tom presses a kiss to your forehead, his hand running up and down your back firmly.
"...But here we are, talking it out, trying. It's more than I can say for Elizabeth who tucked tail and ran again. I'm going to shove my own insecurities down and let this one go, but so help me if there is a next time Tom—I'm leaving and not coming back," you finish, lifting your head up to look at the man holding you.
He looks a bit pale, but he's nodding frantically with a rushed-out mess of agreeing noises.
I love you, you sign...but not with the one-handed sign you usually go for. This way is more intimate, more meaningful, not as impactful as actually saying it...but the way Tom's eyes go wide and his lips curl into a smile make you sure he understands.
"Teach me, I want to say it back," Tom says under his awe-stricken breath.
You take the next minute to show him the two signs, pointing to the other once the "I" and the "love" parts were completed.
I love you, Tom signs back.
Your heart swells, feeling gargantuan in your chest.
"Dorkier than Ez," you laugh, not giving him time to respond as you lean in, cupping his face in your hands and kissing him.
His hands tangle in your hair, cradling the back of your skull. The kiss isn't something sloppy, leading to the inevitable good fuck. This kiss is something tender and savored, leading to nothing but the promise of a full heart and security. If you had any insecurities about your place in Tom's life before there is no questioning it now. With a soft sound you rock closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck to get as close as possible.
The blanket pools at your sides.
"Darling," Tom rasps when you both pull apart, foreheads pressed together, noses bumping every so often.
"Mmmh?" You offer in acknowledgement.
"You should look for another job," Tom says and for a second a horrible feeling threatens to ruin everything. Then you realize that is him saying you're more than just Ezra's nanny. A grin spreads across your face and you nod frantically.
With that Tom stands up, your legs wrapping around his waist and his hands hook under your butt to keep you where you are. The lights are turned off and you use a free hand to set the house's alarm for the night. You rest your cheek on his shoulder as he carries you into the bedroom, depositing you on the bed with a soft chuckle.
As Tom goes to brush his teeth first you take off the fancy decor pillows from the bed, setting them at the foot of it, pushing the covers back for you both to crawl into. You grab his laptop from the dresser and set it on the bed, because you both need some R&R with some Netflix.
You trade places, getting yourself ready for bed in record time. In the end you take off everything but your undies and tank top, making your way back into the bedroom while flicking off the bathroom light.
Tom is sitting on the bed in a pair of old sweats and nothing else, lazily scrolling through his phone undoubtedly replying to something work related. You crawl onto your side, plugging in your phone before rolling over to face the man.
"Can it wait?" You ask softly.
Tom sighs and nods, leaving his phone on his nightstand before scooting down to lay beside you, "of course it can love."
You flush, wiggling closer until you're wrapped in his embrace, "good. I think you owe me some cuddles."
Tom nuzzles your forehead with his nose and lips, peppering your hairline with kisses, "I definitely owe you cuddles, and then some."
The two of your hold each other for a while before finding a better, but still close position to lay in while catching up one some shows Tom had to put on hold for filming. You fall asleep in his arms, and while you'd like to say you fall asleep with a smile on your face...you probably fell asleep snoring—and knowing Tom, he probably found it cuter.