AN: Inspired by a rewatch of 3x13 as I (not so) patiently await season 5.
When Avery arrived home from the studio his wife was already in bed. Juliette had been having some trouble sleeping and he attempted to be quiet as he took off his shoes and pants. He slid between the sheets and moved next to her, wanting to kiss her shoulder but not wanting to chance waking her. He appeased himself by touching her hair, lifting the golden strands from the pillow and threaded them through his fingers. Her hair was just slightly damp and smelled of something floral.
He pulled his hand away and she shifted, rolling over to face him.
"Hey, baby," she said, her voice gravelly. "You're finally home. How was it?" She reached for him, moving so that her head was lying on his shoulder and her stomach bumped against his side.
"It was good, babe." He kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."
"No, it's all right." She sighed. "I've been tossing and turning anyway. Your daughter has an extremity wedged in my ribcage and I've been trying to get her to move but she seems to be pretty comfortable. Or pretty stubborn."
He smiled against her hair. "Where would she get that from?"
"You," she said immediately. "Tell me how it went with Sadie. You were worried about making progress."
"We ended up getting a lot done," he said. "It all worked out."
She thrummed her fingers against his chest, probably waiting for him to elaborate. Finally she raised her head to look at him. "That's it?"
"Sorry. I'm just…it's late and I gotta go back to the studio in the morning." He put his hand over hers, stilling her fingers. "How was your day?"
She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment before answering. "Fine." She laid her head back on his shoulder. "Highlight of my day was going to the grocery store with Emily."
"Yeah?"
"I had a craving for chicken and waffles the entire day."
"You didn't have any?"
"No. I waited on you as long as I could and then had a salad for dinner. A big salad."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. You were working. I'm sorry I didn't remember what you were doing." She shook her head against his chest. "This pregnancy brain…I put my purse in the refrigerator and left a bag of carrots on the table."
Avery chuckled and kissed her forehead again, then put a hand on her stomach. Their daughter lay still and he imagined that she was pretty comfortable cradled in the warmth of her mother's body. "I have to get up early, babe."
Juliette groaned a little and he knew she was pouting. "Goodnight." She lifted her head to give him a quick kiss. "Love you."
"Love you too." He trailed his fingers over her arm. "'Night."
He held her, listening as her breathing slowed and she fell back asleep. He felt a little guilty for not telling her what had happened at the studio but he hadn't wanted to mention it. After he and Sadie confronted Pete, things had gone smoothly but Avery couldn't stop thinking about it on the drive home. When Sadie told him her ex was outside taunting her with his presence, he hadn't been able to stop himself from storming outside but afterwards he chided himself, thinking that it wouldn't have done either he or Sadie any good to get into a fight with Pete.
He'd felt that he had to do something. The thought of a man putting his hands on a woman disgusted him and he would have regretted it if he'd done nothing more than try to convince Sadie to talk to Rayna. He didn't know Sadie Stone that well, but he knew she didn't deserve what Pete was putting her through. The physical abuse was terrible by itself, but the mind games he was playing with her somehow made it worse.
The topic broadened in his mind as he brooded over it. He thought about his parents and their marriage, how his father sometimes ran roughshod over his mother. Avery had done the same to Scarlett, selfishly putting his wants ahead of hers. He'd tried to make it up to her but romantically it was too late for them. Avery didn't regret that, because if he'd stayed with Scarlett even when they both knew they were just treading water in the relationship, he wouldn't be snuggling with his wife and unborn daughter. And he loved Juliette, who was using him as a body pillow and had probably already begun drooling on his shirt. He loved her fiercely, in a way that he hadn't even known he could feel for another person. She was the most precious thing in his life.
Juliette had once told him she didn't believe in love, but he knew better than that. One of the things he most admired about her was that she continued to love even though she'd been hurt so many times. Their marriage was only a month old and so far they'd been honeymooning, going out of the way to do sweet things for each other. She left sticky notes in his notebook and he'd turn a page and unexpectedly find an "I love you" scrawled on a pink square. He made a cup of her favorite herbal tea and gave her a back rub every night before bed.
For his birthday a few weeks before, she had got it in her head to surprise him with dinner. She'd greeted him at the door, an apron stretched adorably around the swell of her stomach, more excited and nervous than he'd seen her in a while. She had ordered his favorites and he'd teased her about her habit of wearing an apron when she hadn't cooked a single bite of food. He'd reached across the table and squeezed her hand, thanking her with a promise to massage her feet later. But she got up, saying she had something else and came back to the table with a fancy cake plate.
"I called your mom and she said carrot cake is your favorite, so…" she hesitated before setting the cake on the table. "I made one for you."
It wasn't pretty, looking as if it hadn't come out of the pan smoothly and she'd attempted to glue it back together by using a trough of cream cheese frosting. He suddenly understood her nervousness. Juliette excelled at a lot of things, but cooking wasn't one of them unless you counted the barely edible pink macaroni dish that she considered comfort food. And he knew she hadn't had a birthday cake of her own until she was almost grown. She would want this to be special.
She insisted on singing to him, a genuinely breathless rendition of the birthday song and he blew out the lone candle on the cake after making the only wish he could want, that they would continue to love each other forever.
"Be honest," she said, watching as he took his first bite. "Don't say you like it if you don't mean it."
"It's good," he said, surprised that it actually was. "I mean it. It's delicious." By some minor miracle, she'd managed to bake a cake that could rival his mother's. Avery wasn't much for sweets but he cut himself a second slice, noting how closely Juliette was watching him. Halfway though that slice he looked up and she smiled at him, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears. He would have eaten the entire cake down to the last crumb to keep that smile on her face.
Maybe he was being incredibly naive, but Avery wanted their marriage to stay in the honeymoon phase as long as it could. He wanted them to be happy - to stay happy, without any manipulation or drama or mind games.
With that memory fresh in his mind, Avery found himself in the kitchen, making chicken and waffles for his pregnant wife in the wee hours of the morning. He'd carefully untangled his limbs from hers, got out of bed and went to the kitchen, thankful for something to distract him from thinking about broken relationships. He was stirring the waffle batter when Juliette called his name.
"Avery?" Her voice rose at the end of the word and she waddled towards him, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "It's late, babe. What - you're frying chicken at two in the morning?"
"Yeah." He nodded at her and turned to the stove, then jerked his hand as it was popped by the hot grease in the skillet. "I have to leave early but I wanted to make your breakfast."
"You didn't have to do that. I didn't tell you about my craving so you would-"
"I wanted to." He interrupted, looking back over his shoulder apologetically. "I probably won't be home until late."
She nodded and walked around the island, watching as he poured batter into the waffle iron. "Oh, there she goes." She put her hands on either side of her stomach. "She's saying thank you, Daddy. Thank you for feeding me and Mama."
He glanced at her. "You're going to eat this now, aren't you?"
"As if I could lie in bed for the rest of the night smelling this chicken and not have any." She pulled out a chair at the island and carefully maneuvered herself onto the tall seat. "Hey, are you still worried about the album? Did Rayna say something?"
"No," he said, setting the bowl of batter on the counter. "She didn't say anything, but it is a big project."
"Avery, you're great at what you do. No one has ever taken as much care with me as an artist as you have. You're an amazing producer. I know Sadie's album is going to be great."
"Thanks, baby." He served her, setting a glass of water next to her plate before starting to clean up the kitchen.
"Another thing that you're amazing at is cooking." Juliette moaned as she bit into a chicken wing. "What you did to these wings was magical. Who taught you how to fry chicken like this?"
"Scarlett, actually."
"I owe her. Big time."
"Probably should thank Deacon then because he taught her."
"Both of them are getting gift baskets. Seriously." She spread butter on her waffle. "None for you, babe?"
"I'm not hungry. Besides, I only fried six wings and I know that's just enough for you." He heard her knife clatter against her plate and looked up from the bowl he was rinsing.
"Avery, please talk to me." She was frowning, her eyes pleading with his. "I'm thankful for breakfast, but this is unusual. Something's bothering you. Did something happen today?"
He turned the water off and walked around the island to sit next to her, finally telling her about Sadie's ex. "She bounced back, but she was embarrassed…and scared. I don't understand how a man could be that way towards a woman, any woman, but especially one that he claims he loves."
Juliette had been eating as she listened to him. She reached for her glass of water and took a sip. "I saw it growing up," she said, setting the glass down. "Not with Mama necessarily, but other women in the trailer park. It's a sad way to live." She tilted her head to the side. "I'm glad you were there to come to her rescue."
"She didn't need me in the end."
"But maybe she did, baby. Maybe she was able to gain her own courage to stand up to him because you were there."
He considered her words and reached for her hand. "You amaze me, you know that?"
She used her other hand to lift her last chicken wing to her mouth. "Hm?"
"You always know what to say," he said, "when your mouth isn't full." She rolled her eyes at him as she chewed and he leaned in to kiss her cheek. "Juliette, there's nothing in this world I wouldn't do for you."
"Don't say that," she teased. "Late night breakfasts might become a regular thing." She cupped his chin, momentarily paying more attention to him than her food. "I feel the same way, Avery. You have my whole heart."
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, then chuckled as he pulled back. "You taste like syrup."
"Do I?" She kissed him again and then grabbed a napkin to wipe her hands. "Let's go to bed. Leave the dishes. I'll get them in the morning. I want to thank you."
"You can't do that right here?"
She grinned and shook her head. "I want to thank you properly, husband. Naked. In our bed."
"Say that again."
"What, naked?"
He loved how her accent affected the way she said the word. Nekkid. But he wasn't talking about that. "No, the other."
"Husband."
"Yes." He helped her down from the chair. "Never stop saying that." He tasted her lips again, kissing away the sweet taste of syrup. Their daughter moved, bumping his hand where it lay on Juliette's waist. This is marriage, Avery thought. Late nights and impromptu meals and the beautiful promise of raising their daughter together, of being a family - this was the future to which he was looking forward.