» Even the smallest act of caring for another person is like a drop of water– it will make ripples throughout the entire pond. «
「 Lesson #9 Take care of each other 」
A/N ~ I hope this 5000 word chapter makes up for my absence. I'm so sorry for not uploading but PLEASE vote and comment I worked so hard on this and it took me so long and I just love the ideas and messages behind it and yeah I'd appreciate anything you could give 🥺🥺🥰
I will post again when this reaches 150 votes and comments <3
POV: JOHNNY ORLANDO
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I'd been running round the house all morning, picking up toys, frantically washing dishes, and putting loads of washing through the machine. Very un-responsibly, I had forgotten to set my alarm and as a result I was behind where I wanted to be. When Mackenzie called and said she was also running late, I sighed in relief. At least now I'd have a chance to make the house look presentable.
I'd started my new job in the past week. It wasn't anything extremely interesting, and I was only working part-time, but I figured that even though I had stashed away a small fortune from working for the army for five years straight, I better keep my mind busy during the day time. I'd picked up a waitressing role at the bar I used to work at as a teenager– the boss knew me well, and was more than happy to welcome me back even if it was only for a while. I enjoyed the job even though it wasn't extremely riveting; I got to chat to some very friendly customers, and as the work was so mindless and second nature to me I didn't have to think much. A lot of my day I stood basking in the sun, making coffee; a very nice change compared to the horrors I was used to at war.
So as a result of me working, I'd slipped up on the housework this week. Which might not have been a problem if it weren't for the fact that Mackenzie was dropping the kids off to me in the later afternoon. They were staying the night as it was Mackenzie's hens night– bridal shower– and she'd asked me to look after them. She kept texting me all week telling me how excited they were to stay the night at mine for the first time. I planned to make it fun; I'd gotten heaps of games out and we were going to have pizza for dinner and then make cake for dessert. Mackenzie said they both loved baking.
Me coming back had been hot gossip in this small town, as I'd learned through work. A lot more people were coming to the bar than usual, and I suspected it was to check out whether I had really come back. I had old women asking me about the twins, and some of mine and Mackenzies old school friends dropped in for a catch up over coffee. Sage, Mackenzies gay best friend, was my favourite visit. We engaged in a tight bro hug when we saw each other, and he'd told me all about how she really had coped when I was gone.
"She's done well, with Hayden. But I never liked that asshat. Tell me you're going to stop the wedding, please," He had drawled, frowning.
"I only want her to be happy," Was what I had settled with after a long silence, tracing my finger around the rim of my glass.
"She's not," Sage had said dramatically.
"Then why is she going ahead with this party thing tonight?" I'd challenged, raising an eyebrow.
"Because you, my friend, haven't told her not to."
"It's not my place!" I'd exclaimed, now scared. I wasn't sure what to make of with this information. It was one thing to care about her but if she cared about me...
"Oh but Johnny boy–it is. You're the twins real Dad and anyway, you only broke up because you left, not because you didn't love each other!"
The conversation had been playing in my head on repeat. I couldn't stop thinking about it. Was she really still in love with me and waiting for me to stay?
One thing was for sure– I know I still loved her. When she walked in the lounge with the kids that afternoon, midnight blue dress clinging to her skin and exposing the pale skin of her back, the back of my throat physically hurt. I had to restrain myself from running my hands down the satin of the dress. Instead I clutched them behind my back, listening to everything she had to say about the kids bedtimes and routines and when they were allowed to get up and so on. Pathetically, I wished I was wearing something better than a hoodie and sweats.
The afternoon with the kids was better than I ever could have imagined. We played a series of stupid games that caused both Brea and Max to erupt into giggles, their eyes shining with love. I kept sweeping them both up into hugs and hauling them onto my back– I couldn't help myself. I'd always wanted to be a Dad and the way Mackenzie had raised the twins was absolutely perfect. We stuffed ourselves full of pizza– where I was told strictly by Max not to put pineapple on his– yet managed to save enough room for the ginormous double chocolate mudcake that was covered in chocolate icing.
The kids weren't trouble at all when putting them to bed. We giggled as they bared their teeth at me in the mirror with a mouthful of toothpaste, and while Brea sat in my lap as I brushed her hair, Max calmly got changed into his pjs and bought Breas with him. We read lots of stories while we were tucked in and I made sure I did all the funny voices because it always made them laugh. When we'd finished the stories I talked to them; they had lots of questions on what being married meant and what a honeymoon was and even though they were young, I made sure I instilled the message in them that they should only marry someone if they love them. When they'd clearly gotten drowsy and they were both blinking trying to stay awake, I kissed them both goodnight and shut the door behind me.
I seemed to stumble down the hall and almost fall down onto the couch where I shut my eyes. I was imagining what it would be like if Mackenzie and I were partners and living together. I could see us getting both the kids ready for bed together, trading smiles and holding hands. And when they were in bed I could see us laughing as we washed the dishes together, like we had when I had first bought this house. I could see us watching movies together as a family and playing all of the silly games we just played. I didn't even have a trampoline for the kids yet, but I could see us all jumping up and down, laughing as we fell, holding hands and jumping together, me double bouncing everyone so they went flying up in the air.
I went and got a beer from the fridge. I drank three. And with each drink, my visions seemed to get clearer. My mind encouraged my body to tell her. To blurt everything out. I knew, even though I was tipsy, it wasn't a great idea. But I think I would have to. Even if it made it awkward, I don't think I could let her slip through my fingers again without me doing anything to stop it.
I heard a car pull up in the drive, saw the headlights spin beams of light around the room. I honestly thought I was imagining it at first. But after I heard the crunch of footsteps on the gravel and a knock at the back door I got up to see whether I was tripping or not.
I wasn't. I wasn't even surprised when I saw Mackenzie was standing on my doorstep, strap slipping off her shoulder and her curls that had previously been woven tightly now falling down her back in waves. Her heels were dangling in her hand. I stepped to the side and let her in without a word. She wasn't supposed to be here but I really, really wasn't complaining. In fact, my body hummed in excitement. It didn't matter what we were doing, I would always love just being around her and I knew I wouldn't take it for granted ever again.
Her gait was graceful enough, but I knew that she'd had a couple of drinks. The lines of seriousness that were always situated on her face were gone, and for once she wasn't looking at me as a mother looks at a father– she was looking at me like I was seventeen year old Johnny– which made me equally nervous and excited.
"Hey," I said softly, testing my luck.
She leaned against the counter and gave me a half smile. "Hey."
"Why are you here, Kenz?"
"I don't know," She started, voice small and sounding lost, "I didn't even know I was driving here until I was."
I stared back at her, unsure of what to say.
Her hands fluttered by her sides. "I wanted to talk to someone. Who's good at conversation. And Haydens not staying at home, and I didn't want to go to an empty house, and I've had a couple drinks, and I–"
"It's fine, really," I interrupted, blushing like a preteen, "I just wondered whether everything was okay."
"Yeah," She replied in a tone of voice that was far too high to be considered okay, "I'm fine."
I twisted my mouth, a tad concerned. "Really?"
"I'm just– hungry! And I need to do something with my hands, I need to be busy for a second."
I thought she was being more than odd, but I just directed her to the fridge and sat down at a bar stool opposite.
"You can grab anything to eat, I don't mind. There's some apples and pears, if you want?"
She rummaged around and picked out a good apple before pulling a knife out of the top drawer, setting about cutting it into thin slices. I was just about to say something about being careful when she dropped the knife– as if it was in slow motion, I saw her fumble with it and then press her leg against the countertop to keep it from clattering on the floor. However instead of catching the knife and stopping it from tumbling down, the blade pressed into her thigh roughly. She gasped in what could only be described as pure shock and pain mixed equally. She closed her eyes after looking down in horror.
"Mackenzie..." I trailed off, worry making my voice raise a couple octaves.
She looked up at me but I had already gotten out of my chair and made my way around to her. I stopped when I saw the state of her; a thin gash now saw blood trickle steadily down her leg. She gulped as she looked at it, paling, and it clicked.
"You don't like blood," I remembered, her horrified expression making me think. I'd had to make excuses for her at high school first aid sessions, and we would bunk off for the afternoon; for she couldn't stand when they made us do something as simple as bandage up dummies. We couldn't ever watch anything remotely gory on TV, and she had always studiously avoided blood tests and needles from a young age.
"Not particularly." Was her weak attempt at a joke, but I saw how hard she was clutching into the countertop– her knuckles were white.
"Don't move," I told her, fishing out the first aid kit from the medicine drawer.
"This is cliché," She protested as I insisted she ease down to the ground and sit across from me, legs straight while mine were cross-legged, even though she was green and sick-looking.
"I don't see any other fellas waiting in line." I joked, sending her a smile, and she laughed softly, still pale from her fear of blood.
I put pressure on the cut before taping and bandaging it up. Goosebumps ran up her leg when I wiped the blood from her ankle to her thigh. I guessed the close proximity was getting to both of us.
"You haven't changed one bit," I interjected into the silence, "Clumsiness, dislike of blood, cliches and being alone." I was half joking half serious. Our eyes met.
"You have." She breathed, not taking her eyes off of mine.
I froze as she shuffled slightly forward so she was practically in my lap and proceeded to slip her hands under my hoodie and up my back. My heart fell right through to my stomach, my mouth opening then closing again. I could hardly breathe as her hands ran over my shoulders and then down my chest.
"Look at you," She whispered in awe.
"Sorry?" I managed to get out.
"You filled out. Grew up. You look... good, J," Her eyes watered.
Each word made my heart pound louder.
"And I went the opposite way," She smiled wistfully.
"What?" I breathed in shock, feeling like I was ripped out of a trance.
She was red, now. "I birthed and nursed two babies. I got cellulite, and stretchy skin on my tummy. And I got boobs that sag and I've gained weight. I don't look... as pretty as I did back when we were at school. It's okay, I know it's true."
She didn't meet my eyes and acted as though she was going to get up and walk away. Shock giving way to purpose, I then took her hands into mine so she couldn't get up. I chose my words carefully.
"Mackenzie, I don't think I've ever thanked you for what you did when I was away."
She blinked at me.
"Raising Max and Brea, without me, getting on with your life, being strong and facing every day like you did– that takes a hell of a lot of courage. And bravery, and faith, and cold, hard, determination."
Her watery eyes gave way to tears.
"You raised Brea and Max to be two of the most kind-hearted, genuine, lovely kids I've ever met. They're curious and smart and empathetic and–" I started to get choked up, "They're everything I imagined what my future kids would be like."
She sniffed and I wiped her tears away gently.
"Society has taught you that gaining a couple kg and having your skin stretch a little is a bad thing. That it's ugly and undesirable and totally not sexy at all. But I–" My voice caught and I swallowed before carrying on.
"But I think that it's these things that make you even more perfect for me. Because they show how amazingly brave and courageous you are. And I haven't told you, but I think you're prettier now than you were. You suit motherhood, Kenz. It just highlights your beautiful personality. Brea and Max being the way they are is a testament to you. To your character, and nobody else's."
I watched as she broke into a sheepish smile. It stuck there, and then she giggled, bright red, unable to help herself.
"I think that's... the nicest thing someone's ever said to me." She said softly.
"Even more so, Mackenzie... I don't think you've gotten any less pretty. I like you and... want you more than ever." My cheeks were bright red and I pulled her in closer to me so she rested in my lap in the circle of my arms. I twirled her hair and we went back to the trance like world we had been in before.
"I missed you," She mumbled into my chest, voice thick with emotion, "So much, J. Everyday I saw Max grow and look more like you."
I lost control.
Every time I was around her I felt like I was fighting for air. Fighting some stupid honourable battle in my head– don't touch her, don't touch her, don't touch her I always repeated. And it was hard enough when she was laughing, wearing normal attire and just playing with the kids. But when she was vulnerable like this, and sitting so close I could feel the heat coming off her skin, and wearing something that just made her look so goddamn desirable, it was too hard to fight against the stupid and honourable voices in my head. So I listened to the reckless and sinful ones.
My hands pooled in the satin material of her dress before gliding up to her waist and clutching on tight. When she didn't protest, my hands dived under the material, seeking out bare skin. The callouses on my hands broke her out in goosebumps as I ran my fingertips from her thighs to her waist. When I found I could go no further, my heart gave a jolt in my chest.
"It unzips at the side." She whispered seductively in my ear, twining her hands around my neck.
That did it.
I leant in, eyes closed, kissing the crook of her neck. She whimpered softly upon me finding her sweet spot, making the blood in my head rush with adrenaline and excitement. As she tipped her head to the side, baring me her body, I dotted kisses from her cheek to her jaw to her neck to her collarbones to her shoulders, all the while unzipping the dress from the hem up to the arm. She moaned and I drew a harsh breath in at the sound.
Something silver caught my eye as they fluttered open; a necklace dangling in the hollow of her throat. Heart pounding, my fingers slid along the chain until I found the charm. When I held it between my fingers and realised it was the necklace with our initials carved in the back, I almost let my tears slip. I knew then, that she still loved me.
"I needed some extra courage tonight," She whispered, "So Brea gave this to me."
"Jesus Christ I love you." I muttered, before kissing the top of her head.
Her hands found my hair and ran through the curls, making me gasp for breath against her. I tucked my head into the crook of her neck again and kissed her there, over and over and over until she was shivering with pleasure.
I couldn't explain how it happened. We just melted into each other, losing all coherent thought and responsible action, and just gave in to feelings and emotions and love. My hands travelled her chest and her sides and between her legs until we were both panting messes, clutching each other on my kitchen floor, my hoodie and her dress strewn around us, her panties halfway down her legs and hair wild around her flushed face.
There was beauty in the uncontrolled. As she lay in my arms in the kitchen, a patch of moonlight highlighting the blush on her cheeks, my heart swelled, and I wondered whether I had ever loved her more than I did in this moment.
"Its nice to feel... alive again." She breathed, looking up at me.
"Tell me about it," I chuckled, leaning my forehead against hers.
It was silent for a bit as we revelled in the seriousness of what we'd just let happen.
"We did all that," Mackenzie said, voice hushed, "And you never kissed me on the lips, not once."
I'd known it was coming. "As much as I hate Hayden right now, I still respect him. Besides... I want to save it. One day." I was flustered.
She smiled and kissed my cheek. "In an odd way, that's very sweet of you."
I smiled back and just hugged her close.
"Don't go," I whispered in her ear, vulnerability creeping back in.
"I don't want to," She whispered back.
"Stay with me," I begged, just as she had when I was leaving the airport on that terrible day five years ago.
"Okay," She breathed out, giving in.
Her in my clothes, we fell asleep in my bed a little while later. We didn't talk. We didn't need to. There would be time for talking in the morning, but for now we mutually agreed we needed to escape from seriousness and just be. The image of her lying out next to me, skin soft and cheeks flushed, hand threaded through mine, would be imprinted on the back of my eyelids for a long time, I knew. She looked both innocent and desirable. Both beautiful and simple, both joyous and immeasurably sad.
We were in the in between, I thought as I drifted off to sleep, and we couldn't go back to normal after kissing each other like that. For each movement was driven by a powerful emotion; irrevocable, honest, true, love.
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MACKENZIE ZIEGLER
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Throughout the night, I had the most beautiful dreams. Dreams of sunshine and good fortune, love and light, fun times and beautiful days. Those I most loved appeared in my dreams; my Mom and Dad, Max and Brea, Hayden and Johnny, Sage and Maddie. I was in a utopia of sorts, dreaming about the good of everyone and everything. It was peaceful, relaxing and spread a sort of tranquil calm over me that I didn't feel often nowadays.
Until my sleep was fragmented and disrupted by the boy lying beside me. I was dimly aware of his heavy breathing, and him tossing over and over, making the bed hot and the sheets sticky. I rolled over myself, barely even remembering who I was with and where I was. I was just chasing the dreams, aching for that good feeling to wash over me again.
Once I'd stirred, I couldn't seem to get back the happy dreams, but I couldn't seem to wake up properly either. So I rested in the groggy tired fog and hoped that it would pass and real sleep would come.
It didn't. But I was woken up for real when the bed dipped as Johnny rolled up to sit and I heard a harsh panting. My eyes opened and I rubbed then, but by the time I'd rolled over to check on him he was staggering into the bathroom, breathing erratic, loud and uncontrolled.
Fear woke me up faster than I would have thought and I stumbled out of bed to follow him, the door creaking as I pushed it open. I drew in a harsh breath at the sight, squinting.
Johnny was lent over the sink, his hands braced on either side, the muscles in his arms flexing; which might have been attractive if I wasn't immediately aware that something was horribly wrong. He was pale and sickly looking, singlet displaying dark pit stains and perspiration dripping down his forehead. This wasn't was made my heart drop into my stomach, though. It was his breathing– or lack of– that scared me. He was breathing like he was running a marathon one second, and then nothing the next. His shoulders were heaving up and down erratically and he was gasping for air.
"Go," He heaved, not even looking at me.
"What?" I was dumbfounded.
He fought to draw breath and turned away from me. "I don't... I don't want you to see me– like this. Not like this."
"You're scaring me, J," My voice wobbled and then broke.
"Please," He begged.
"No," I said firmly, "Look at me."
"Mackenzie..." He barely managed to get out before I backed him up and sat him onto the toilet seat. I knelt on the ground as I watched the fear in his eyes turn to panic.
"Head between your legs now, and fucking breathe Orlando." I ordered in the voice I usually reserved for telling the kids off strictly.
He did so, looping his hands around his neck and leaning down, still struggling to maintain a regular breathing pattern. I gently twined the hair at the nape of his neck around my fingers, hoping to God I could calm him myself. Five years of toddler tantrums did teach you a thing or two about de-esculation.
"You're okay," I was telling him over and over, blindly hoping it was helping, "I got you. I love you. You're okay."
It took at least five whole minutes for him to be able to draw consistent breath, but by the time he was normal again, the energy just seemed to have fallen right out of him. Knowing sleep was far too out of reach for both of us, I tugged at his shirt hem and kissed him on the cheek.
"C'mon, J, lets get you into the shower. You're drenched in sweat."
I was intending to give him privacy and wait outside with a towel, but he pulled at them hem of my own shirt and before I knew it I was getting in after him.
"Bad dreams," He told me somberly when the hot water was rushing around us, eyes boring into my own, "I get them all the time. I need to see a psychologist, about them. They're from war."
And then I held him close as he cried, both of us warm and slippery. I washed his hair and his face and his body as if I could wipe all the bad dreams away.
"No matter what happens in the dreams," For I had a strong idea of what they involved, "I've always got you, you hear me? I don't what it is, we work through it together." I was stern.
He nodded.
"I'll go and get you some clothes, and make you a cup of tea, okay?" I told him, and then with a smile I said, "Keep breathing."
He managed a small one back and pressed his lips to my forehead.
"Thanks," His voice broke.
"Don't mention it," I smiled, letting go of his hand and letting myself out.
While bustling around to make us some tea, I must have been a bit too loud, for Brea and Max both got out of bed and wandered into Johnny's bedroom a couple minutes later. Luckily we were tucked in the blankets on either side of the bed, sipping our drinks and just talking quietly; although he did have a hand on my thigh, which promptly slid off when the kids walked in.
"Why are you awake, Mommy, Daddy?" Brea yawned from the doorway, Max clutching onto her hand beside her.
"Dad had a bad dream," I replied honestly after Johnny and I shared a look, "We're just going back to bed now."
"Can we sleep with you?" Max asked, his eyes wide.
"I–" I started to say, but Johnny jumped in.
"Of course," He said, and opened his arms wide for Max to jump into them.
Brea traipsed up behind her brother and slid into bed beside me, her blue-green eyes sleepy. I traced patterns on her cheeks and soon enough her eyes fluttered closed and breathing became even. Max hardly even needed prompting; he was more than happy to stretch out beside his sister and Dad, falling back asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow.
I looked at the three people curled up in bed beside me, and wondered how on earth one person could possibly hold so much love for them. We were irreversibly linked, us three; but it didn't scare me, it left me with a warm, content, fuzzy feeling.
"I've been a Mum for five years now," I said to Johnny quietly as a tear slipped down my cheek, "And I think this is the most I've ever felt like a family unit."
Johnny smiled across at me, pulling the blankets around him and stroking Max's forehead in wonder. "You know I'd give you all the stars in the sky if you asked."
I giggled and flushed, wiping my tears away. "I know."
"We'll talk tomorrow. Everything will be okay. Promise."
"Pinky promise?" I managed to get out, voice cracking.
He stretched his arm out over the kids and we shook pinkies, smiling at each other.
"Good night," He said, "And thank you. You know what for."
"I know," I replied, "Sweet dreams."
He laughed, and then closed his eyes, smile still decorating his features. I stared for a bit, but soon feel asleep with the same goofy smile glued to my lips.
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AUTHORS NOTE
Ahhhh squeeeeee I really hope you liked this chapter I was so nervous to post 🥺 I guess I just wanted to highlight a couple of things:
1. Smut doesn't have to be written gross it can be pretty too.
2. Selfless love is absolutely superior don't even try change my mind.
3. Being honest with yourself in life is extremely important.
I hope you received these messages one way or another X
QUESTION OF THE CHAPTER
Q) What is your absolute favourite top quality you want in a friend/relationship?
A) Selflessness/empathy because they're kinda the same thing. I die inside when I notice that people care enough to show it to me.
LOTS OF LOVE
No chapter till 150 votes! Just because I worked so so hard on this wow. Get it to the goal as the chapters only get better from here X
– Trinity xoxo