@elle_york97: I'm sitting outside beside the flower boxes.
You look up from your phone and across the swath of people and tables. Sure enough, amongst the midday diners Elizabeth is sitting pretty at a corner table that is mostly hidden from large chrysanthemum bushes.
She's scrolling through her phone with her lower lip between her teeth⏤ she's nervous.
Pocketing your phone, you weave through tables and occupied chairs, only to stop and stand tall at Elizabeth's table. The woman looks up and when she recognizes you aren't a waiter; she clears her throat and sets her phone face-down on the table.
"Thank you for meeting me here," Elizabeth says in lieu of a true greeting.
"I'm not here for you," you say and sit down, "I'm here for Ezra and Tom."
The English woman narrows her eyes for a moment, but sighs as if saying I should have expected as much. Which she should have, you're twice the woman she is, at least in the eyes of people that matter most.
Elizabeth leans to the side and riffles through her large purse, and a few seconds later she returns with a large manila envelope. At the same time a waiter comes by and sets down two glasses of water and offers some specials.
You open your mouth to decline any food, since this isn't really a social call, but Elizabeth orders a cheese platter to share. The waiter nods and scurries back inside to place the order, and you hope Elizabeth knows to pull out her wallet by the end of this.
"So, what's in the ominous envelope?" You ask.
"It's not ominous," Elizabeth says while rolling her eyes, "it's just what the papers came in."
Her delicately manicured nails pinch the brass tabs and she opens the envelope. Her hand reappears with a thick packet of papers, and you can't help but be a little nervous. Elizabeth extends it out to you, and you get a whiff of her heavily floral perfume. It distracts you for a moment, but then your eyes skim the paper.
"Prostate cancer?" You ask a bit loudly.
The two men at a table nearby pause and look over. You wince and shrink in your chair a bit, and Elizabeth looks just as uncomfortable as you feel. The two men return to their food, and you grab the packet from the woman beside you. It ends up being an informational packet on all things to do with prostate cancer, and you'd been so into investigating you didn't see her pull out two more things.
They are two smaller envelopes.
"This is for Tom and Ezra, from my dad," Elizabeth says softly.
You take those too when she hands them over.
"And... what's going on here?" You ask.
Elizabeth sighs and takes a long sip of her water; her lipstick stains the glass rim, "my father was diagnosed with stage three prostate cancer. I thought you and Tom would like to know, for Ezra's sake."
You sit in silence, and you feel your throat tighten as an instinctual reaction. Around the table there is a roar of chatting, chewing, and silverware clanking. Cars zoom past and dogs bark, yet this table feels like ground zero and silence rings in your ears for a moment.
"Oh," you say.
Don't say sorry, you quickly remind yourself, she's heard it a million times.
Elizabeth blinks at you, as if she's expecting you to say more than that. Which you probably should; you definitely should.
"Thank you for letting me know, um, that'll come in handy when Ezra's older. He'll be able to catch it earlier in case he does...you know, get it," you say while nervously fiddling with the seams of the two envelopes in your hands.
"It was my dad's idea," she says as the cheese platter arrives.
Elizabeth promptly smears gooey brie onto a thin cracker and takes a bite, "I am not a mother, but he's always been a grandfather. He wanted what was best for me, but we all knew he felt differently about Ezra. He's a powerful man and had Thomas and I been older and more established I would've had no doubt Ezra would've taken over my dad's business."
The use of Thomas makes your spine prickle. It sounds too robotic and clinical, especially out of his ex's mouth.
You set the envelopes and packet onto the table and sit back in your chair⏤ crossing your arms, "had things happened slower and later...do you think you would've kept Ezra. You know been happy about him?"
"Probably, I don't know," Elizabeth shrugs, "but it didn't happen and now Ezra has a really great nanny⏤"
"Mother," you say sharply.
The other woman pauses and looks over, and you straighten your posture.
"I'm his mom. He calls me that, Tom calls me that, and I'm his mother," you say, and suddenly so much is bubbling up that you can't even stop it from coming out, "I know that he has a peanut allergy, a pretty severe one, but that he loves sunflower seed butter more. His favorite TV show is Peppa Pig and he loves George because learning from mistakes is good. If I put too many bubbles in his bath, he throws a tantrum because if he can't see his legs he gets freaked out. At bedtime he likes when I tickle his back and sing to him. When Tom is away filming, I know that going to the park is the best way to keep him happy and distracted. And⏤"
You stop, biting on your tongue, and Elizabeth is as still as a stone.
"You gave birth to him, and I know the story. Thank you for going through that, but I've picked up the pieces and I'm making new ones. So please, call me what I am, and the nanny is the wrong answer."
Elizabeth purses her lips, eyes finding the ground rather interesting for a few moments. When you look close enough you see how tightly she is clamping her hands together, and you feel like you've crossed a line you probably shouldn't have.
"I get why Tom loves you so much, you're everything I wish I could've been for him," Elizabeth finally says, "thank you for picking up the pieces...and for what it's worth I'm sorry for everything I've done to the Hollands."
"Thank you, but that last apology is for them not me," you say and pick the papers and envelops back up, "and if you're ever ready to say it to them, I think they'd listen. Thank you for giving me this information, and I wish your father and your family the best during this time."
With that you move to stand up, you have no appetite or wish to stay with Elizabeth longer than you have to. She speaks up one more time just as you put your bag strap on your shoulder.
"Does he know? Ezra, that I'm um...you know?" Elizabeth asks, and her voice is as tight as a piano wire.
She's the scary pumpkin lady is what you want to say, because that's how Ezra remembers her. Except you can see the searching in her usually cold and clinical eyes, and for a brief moment you feel for her. There is no doubt that she is cruel and selfish, and of course she is manipulated by her father's wishes...but she's just that. A little girl doing everything she can for her family's approval, even if perhaps it's not what she wants.
"Not yet," you lie, "he won't understand the difference between his birth mom and me...one day he'll know. When he's older."
Elizabeth smiles weakly and nods, "okay."
"Okay," you echo.
A beat passes, and then you walk away. Your feet feel numb and tingly as you make your way through the tables and back onto the sidewalk. Every step feels too hard and too quick as you make it to your curbside car, and you hold your breath as you get in. The key turns the engine over quickly and you insert yourself into the mid-morning traffic.
The car feels steady under your hands, something you can control completely, and you relish that until you pull into the driveway. Your eyes look up to your home; Ezra's muddy boots are beside the front door, still a mess from when he'd been jumping in puddles yesterday.
You don't remember when you started crying, or breathing, but the world kind of just fades away. Your knuckles hurt and you assume that is from when you hit the steering wheel. Your throat feels raw and it's probably from the sobs that fall out of your mouth even though you're trying to stop them. The world is blurry but it's from all the tears that flood your eyes.
"Darling," a voice hushes, although the tone is concerned.
It breaks the void and you look to your right. The driver's side door is open, and Tom is standing there in not shoes, wet hair, and his favorite hoodie. He must've just showered for the day, not expecting to be out in public yet. You look up at him and clamp a hand over your mouth to silence yourself, although to compensate you shakily breath and whine through your nostrils.
It almost sounds more pathetic.
"Come on," Tom says and leans into the car.
He grabs your bag and unbuckles your seatbelt for you. His hand links with yours and helps you out of the car. He takes care to lock the doors and set the alarm before leading you inside. Your purse is hung up on the nearby coat rack, and your shoes are slipped off for you. Before you know what's happening, you're being put onto the couch.
Tom sits as well, cuddling up beside you with his arms open for you to fall into.
You let yourself fall.
Your face is hidden in against his chest and your arms tightly hold him around his middle. One hand is firmly pressed against your back while the other toys with your hair, and of course he knows that your hair being played with helps calm you down. Of course he knows.
"I hate this," you whimper after a while.
Tom tenses up beneath you, "do you want to elaborate?"
"I didn't get a DM from a high school friend," you admit.
That conversation had been a few days ago, and Tom remembers because he's been bugging you about seeing embarrassing pictures of you ever since.
"So, what really happened?" He asks.
"Elizabeth messaged me," you hold Tom a little tighter, "and she said she needed to meet with me about important news regarding Ezra. I thought...I thought I could just go do it and take it on for you, and it is important news but every time I see her, I just feel like I can't be enough for you or Ezra."
Tom's hand moves to your shoulders and you're being pushed back so you're sitting up independently. Your eyes feel puffy and you shamefully let them meet Tom's. He looks angry, but it's a much smaller part of the picture...he looks mostly concerned.
"What did she tell you?" He asks.
"Her dad was diagnosed with stage three prostate cancer, and that she wanted us to know for Ezra's sake⏤ later in life," you say.
Tom's eyes widen for a moment, "fuck."
"She gave me a packet on it, as well as I think a letter for you and Ezra? I don't know I didn't open those envelopes," you add, putting all your cards on the table.
The man in front of you looks to your purse across the room, but instead of going to it he looks back at you. His hand comes up and moves a piece of hair out of your face, "what did she tell you that made you so upset?"
You inhale wheezily and feel a fresh wave of hot tears come in, "I love you. I love Ezra. I love Haz. I love your family. And then.... she calls me the nanny and not Ezra's mom or your girlfriend, and it feels like a slap to the face⏤"
Tom sighs and his head falls a little bit.
The words stop falling from your mouth, and your lips hurt from how hard you're biting them. The lack of reassurance is burning a hole in your gut, and the longer the silence gets the worse you feel. It isn't until Tom gets up without a word that the hole becomes a gaping wound. It's gnarly and startling...
"Hey, no," you finally say and stand up.
Tom stops and turns to face you again, and there is a renewed anger in his gaze, "what (Y/N)?"
That is a new tone, venomous almost, and your eyes widen in shock. You march around the couch and step back into Tom's space with an anger of your own know. You were just trying to do the right thing, it backfired, but it doesn't call for your partner to be rude without justification.
Before you can open your mouth, Tom's hands cup your cheeks and you're being pulled in for a kiss. It knocks you off guard and it makes what is left of your stomach swoop. Your brows scrunch up and you pull back.
"I love you, alright?!" Tom says harshly, the statement firm and passionate.
Your mouth opens and closes a few times as you flounder for words, but you just opt to nod.
His thumbs brush at your cheekbones, and his face is still angry, "I love you because you're my...you're my everything. I love you because you're the mother to our son who thinks the world of you. Everything you are and everything you do makes me feel like the luckiest div in the world.
And then you go out and do something stupid like this. Elizabeth hurts, it's in her nature. She has these moments of good, but they never outweigh the bad. I'm sorry for her father, but whatever is in those fucking envelops is leverage over us. I don't want anything from the Yorks, not now and not ever. She is my problem (Y/N), not yours and the fact she went around me to you shows just how selfish and cruel she is."
"I just didn't want her to hurt you, I wanted to take the fall," you say, but it is barely audible as the lump in your throat hushes your tone.
Tom shakes his head, "she hurts me when she hurts you."
"I'm sorry," you say because you can't think of anything else.
"You're everything Ezra and I could ever ask for," he mutters and leans in only to press a kiss to your forehead.
Your eyes flutter shut as you lean against each other, and you both begin to wind down from the chaos. Every breath is even and matched and your arms pretty much lock Tom in place. He sways the two of you back and forth for a bit, enjoying how you feel pressed into him.
After a bit Tom shifts, and his hands slide down until they're on the back of your thighs and pulling up. You understand the queue and jump with the motion. Your legs are wrapped around Tom's middle and your arms loop around his neck. The living room fades as he takes you down the hall. A familiar right turn has the two of you in the bedroom, and you feel your skin warm as your heart speeds up.
You test the waters and let your nails scratch from the nape of Tom's neck and up into his curls. The motion has his head craning upwards and you meet his gaze, and without a doubt you can see the want in his warm brown eyes.
Nodding, you lean down and kiss him. You let out a soft sound when lips and tongue meet. This is the reassurance you need, a physical and real reminder that Tom and you are really in it. As parents. As lovers. As everything.
It's slow when the two of you undress each other when you both finally sprawl on the bed. It's all lingering touches and prickling skin. Sex between the two of you is usually quiet and fast, it's all lusty need to get off because of Ezra. Except he's spending the morning with Harrison and his family, all of the younger cousins and whatnot do Ezra some good every now and then.
For hey have time to slow down, and in this moment, they are relishing every second of it.
"So beautiful," Tom mouths against the skin of your shoulder.
You shudder and move to sit on his lap, and you want the closeness. Tom's hands find your hips and his fingers toy with the hem of your panties. A smile crosses your face as you arch up into him, and he takes full advantage of the motion. His mouth kisses and sucks cross your chest, and every so often his tongue takes a teasing swipe across your nipples.
A shiver ripples through your body, and your nails scratch at Tom's shoulders for purchase.
"Please," you ask, panting a bit as you grind against Tom a little.
He nods, "soon Darling. Let me do this slow, let me show you how much I love you."
The words make you still and you look at him for a long moment. Tom looks so sure about his words and it feels overwhelming, and suddenly you feel twelve and butterflies explode in your stomach.
"Okay," you agree and crawl backwards and off of Tom.
He sits prettily on the bed; his chest is flushed, his boxers are beginning to tent, and his gaze never leave you. With shaky hands you pull of your underwear and let them fall to the floor. You leave yourself completely bare for Tom to take in, and you let yourself sit prettily too.
"Show me."
Tom is quick to gently push you back onto the mattress. Your hand comes up and it cradles Tom's chin, stopping his movements. Leaning up, you kiss him on the corner of his mouth before leaning closer towards his ear.
"I love you," you whisper.
He laughs softly, his head dipping to rest on your shoulder, and then he moves again. You know he feels the same way, but he's currently showing and not telling. His lips press kisses down your chest, across your navel, and down to your hips. They lead a trail down one leg and up the other and when you feel anticipation almost boil over, he finally stops where you want him most.
His fingers spread you open and his mouth sucks at your clit.
You inhale sharply and feel yourself flex in reaction.
While he sucks his tongue flicks back and forth, and your hand flies down and tangles in his hair so you can steady yourself. Your body feels like it's vibrating as he continues to use his mouth on you. He licks a long wide stripe up your folds, and you can't stop the high-pitched squeak that leaves you.
You crane your head down to see what he's doing when his mouth vanishes. The sight makes your knees feel weak; he's sucking on his own fingers and eventually when they're soaked, he puts them against you.
When he puts two fingers inside you, you can't help but arch your hips up. Tom puts his free hand on your stomach and stops you from doing it again. You whine and he tisks at you, and he also choses that moment to curl his fingers the right way and⏤
"Oh fuck," you whimper as your head rolls back.
He speeds up and you feel your muscles start to shake. It feels like static fills your body from head to toe. Little breathy sounds leave you, and soon they fade into silent cries when you near your orgasm. Tom pulls out his fingers and wraps his arms where your hips meet your thighs, and he just puts his everything into eating you out.
Your hands fly up until they grip the wooden footboard.
The static fills your brain and your body arches as your climax washes over you. On instinct your knees want to come together, and you accidentally squeeze Tom's head a little, but he forces himself back, but he keeps a hand completely pressed against your slit.
You eventually have to put your hand over his to get him to stop his little movements trying to milk your orgasm for all it's worth. You feel like jelly and it's too much at the moment. Your chest heaves for breath and your eyelids lazily hood your eyes.
Tom looks at you with a pleased expression on his face.
After a few more residual shocks flow through your body you sit up and reach out to Tom. Your fingers pull at the waistband of his boxers, and he helps take them off with a quick shimmy of his hips. You sit yourself back on his lap and take him into your hand, and you watch as his eyes flutter shut.
You lean in close and kiss his jaw, and you even nip at his earlobe for a moment. Tom inhales sharply and his hands squeeze your hips. Tom, somehow you don't remember when he grabbed it, pulls your hand off of him and puts lube on your fingers. You rub them together to warm it up before you start to stroke him off.
Your other hand runs through Tom's messy curls and pulls on them slightly, so his head rises from your shoulder. You kiss him, long and slow, all the while your hand squeezes and twists in ways you know he likes. Tom lets out little hums every now and again, involuntary noises that let you know you're doing it right.
"Come'ere Love," Tom says eventually and pulls your hands away.
You let out a yelp when he pulls you further onto his lap. His skin feels incredibly hot against yours. You rest most of your weight on your bent knees, and when he guides himself into you, you let out a shaky breath.
The two of you move together; hips rolling and grinding in time.
Both of you are reduced to nothing but small breathy noises and frantic kisses. Every touch feels like you've jumped into a raging fire; your body is so warm and sensitive. You know you aren't going to hit a peak again, at least not when Tom does⏤ he's close. His eyebrows are furrowed together, and his stomach muscles are twitching.
"Let go Baby," you encourage softly, "I got you."
Tom's hands grab your hips and it gives him more leverage to thrust upwards. You whine softly into his shoulder when his movements become erratic. Then Tom climaxes with a loud groan, and he slows down as he tries to catch his breath. He twitches inside of you and you keep rotating your hips a bit.
He hums as he kisses your cheek tenderly, "did I show you?"
You pause and pull away, looking him in the eye, and ultimately let out a laugh, "God⏤ I love you."
Tom has the audacity to become bashful and you give him another kiss.
"Yes. You did," you say, satisfied.
His eyes glance over to the bedside table and you follow his gaze. The clock shouts red angry letters at the two of you and you know this alone time won't last. For a few more moments the two of you enjoy the afterglow, just to cuddle and be close, but eventually the bedding is thrown in the washer and the two of you clean up.
///
By the time the front door opens, and Ezra is stampeding in, you're walking down the hall freshly showered and in clean clothes. The toddler giggles happily when Tom swings him around and holds him close.
"Did you have fun today Ez?" Tom asks.
"Tell 'em what you got to do," Harrison prompts proudly.
Ezra beams as he announces, "I played on a t'ampoline⏤ Mum!"
You quickly hold your arms out when the boy all but throws himself out of his father's arms and into yours. Ezra holds you close, and his hands tangle themselves in your wet hair. Laughing you pepper his chubby cheeks in kisses; which, in turn makes the boy squirm and squeal.
"A trampoline, huh? Well next time you'll have to show Daddy and I!" You tell him and press one last big fat kiss on the boy's forehead.
Ezra smiles and tucks his head under your chin.
Tom and Harrison are looking at you with matching expressions of fondness. It makes your heart feel warm and full. Ezra is taken by Tom to go get some fresh clothes on that don't have a million grass stains on them, and that leaves you with Harrison.
You watch down the hall and wait until the two others vanish, and then you grab the two envelopes from your bag. Unopened, you extend them to Harrison.
"What's this?" He asks and takes them.
When he makes a move to open them you place your hands on his to stop him, "they're from Elizabeth. I don't care if you burn them or stash them, can you just please get them out of this house?"
Harrison looks from the envelopes to you and nods, folding them and putting him in his back pocket, "of course."
"Thank you," you nod and give your friend a hug.
He holds on tight, patting your back a few times, "I'm glad it's you. They both adore you."
"Someone's gotta help the Holland boys from self-destructing," you tease, and while you both laugh the moment sobers, "⏤but yeah. I'm glad it's me too."
"Ez!" Shouts Tom from the other room.
You break from Harrison and turn around to look down the hall. A very naked Ezra is running past and into the dining room and kitchen, and Tom is hot on his heels. Harrison jokes that it's his queue to leave and makes a quick exit. Tom slips on the change from the carpet under the dining table to hardwood flooring and tumbles onto the floor with a grunt.
"Hey now mister!" You say and lunge for Ezra who tries and fails to run his naked little butt past you.
You swoop him into your arms and hold him tight despite his wiggling. Ezra is laughing hysterically as he watches his father groan on the floor and hold his ribs. Walking over to the man down you bend over him with a concerned look.
"'M fine, just got the wind knocked out of me," Tom wheezes.
Ezra frowns, "Sorry Daddy."
"It's alright Bug, but how about we get you dressed, hmm?" Tom asks as he slowly stands up.
You shush Ezra when he begins to protest, and you make a deal with him. Clothes for chicken nuggets, and you think it's a pretty good trade.