Kurt had sent her away, asking her to give him some space to talk with his mother. Understandably so. He would need her after, yet he felt a strong tie to closing this family matter on his own. She couldn't fault him, having felt the same several times. He needed to close the chapter he had failed at years before.

Jane's feet wandered with nervous energy - she needed to do something. At the patisserie, she perused the baked goods, trying to gauge what would be the most chocolatey. Settling on chocolate mousse and a piece of chocolate cake, she got them wrapped and headed to the sidewalk.

When would they get a break? Exhaustion drooped her husband's face, his bright eyes clouded with years of unresolved pain. He had proposed giving a colossal sum to take care of his mother, which she had rapidly agreed to, yet he was unsettled, his fist opening and closing considering the magnitude of expense for the high probability of failure. She assured him they would be okay, that he wouldn't have suggested giving the money otherwise. Doubt crowded his mouth; he'd do anything to stop this problem.

If his mother accepted his offer, he was taking her to Jersey that night. Jane had offered to help, yet he emphasized this was between mother and son. "Be there when I get home," he had requested, giving her a kiss and hug before parting to face his demons.

Jane couldn't go to the lab - Rich was far too interested in gossiping, and she didn't have any patience for his antics today. She walked a few blocks to the park, sitting under a street light and staring out into the night. Why hadn't his mother told him his father had been abusive? Why hadn't she been the adult in the conversation? Her thoughts trailed when she started comparing his mother to her adoptive mother. There were complicated circumstances.

Her phone buzzed. She agreed to go. You can come home.

She typed a brief reply and started walking the sidewalk again. Be safe. 3

Jane busied herself washing the guest room sheets and tidying the apartment, erasing any trace there had been a guest. Assembly lining meatballs, she prepped food for when her husband came home, leaving only a box of rigatoni next to the stove to cook. He loved food. She was at a loss of what else to do beyond feed him and be there for him, so she retired to the couch, drawing in her sketchbook while she waited.

When Kurt walked through the door and dropped his keys in the bowl, he attempted a soft smile for Jane, comforted by her presence. "Hey," he shared. She moved to go to him, yet he held his hand out, needing a few minutes. Behind the darkness, his face sheltered a bit of - relief? He wouldn't move close enough for her to see. After putting his jacket in the closet, he poured himself a glass of scotch and retreated with the bottle to the den.

How long was she supposed to wait? It had already been hours. She looked at her phone - three minutes, four minutes - ugh, she couldn't be patient when he was in so much pain.

Jane found him sitting on the den couch, his head in one hand and glass in the other. She sat on the floor perpendicular to him and tapped his foot with hers, sharing that she was there for him. She stayed quiet while he drank, he quickly finishing the glass.

The entire car ride played on repeat in his mind, the multitude of questions his mother asked grating his nerves without Jane there to broker them. Sarah, Sawyer, how had he met Jane, how long had he and Jane been married, did they have any children? After several rounds of questions, he barely bit back a gruff "it's not your place to ask," and instead went with "Mom, it's been a really long day, can we just go in silence for a while?" The ride back was so quiet her pattering questions echoed in the air she had vacated, leaving him even more distressed.

After several minutes of sitting, he shared. "It was awful. I got her there, and she almost changed her mind again."

That sounded a lot like her husband in Philly. "But she didn't, right?"

"Right." He poured himself another glass. "She kept asking questions like things were normal. You have no idea what she did to us, Jane."

She knew strikingly little of his mother. "No, I don't. You can tell me."

His focus remained on his glass, running his finger along the rim. "Sarah was distraught when I called her. Criticized why I would give our mother anything. Suggested it was your idea."

Jane pursed her lips; she and Sarah didn't always see eye to eye. "She went. It doesn't matter."

His shoulders sagged with a heavy sigh. "I can't tell if the weight is lifting or pressing down."

She tapped his foot again, finally drawing his eyes to hers and revealing the dark circles and crease in his brow. "What can I do?"

He swallowed, metering his emotion. "Don't take this the wrong way. I'm glad you're here. It was a rough car ride; can I have a bit?" He only wanted a few minutes alone with his scotch.

Not really what she wanted to do, yet she understood. "If you're hungry, I made you meatballs, and there's chocolate mousse and cake in the fridge."

He nodded in thanks, yet he had no interest in food. "I'll come to bed soon."

"Okay." She rose and left the room, headed for the bedroom.

The whole drive back wasn't enough? He didn't seem to want either of the things she could offer. How many times had she escaped the apartment on a run or cowered in cave mode asking him to wait? Even knowing she sometimes needed space didn't make it any easier to leave him alone. Jane undressed to a t-shirt and shorts and waited for him in bed. He had been endlessly accommodating - surely she could do the same.

Footsteps padded into the bedroom a while later. After stripping to his shorts, Kurt pulled her to him, burying his face in her neck. Silent tears fell across her neck, trailing to the sheets. "I'll hold you," she coaxed, running her fingers across his arm, yet he shook his head and held onto her tighter.

Under growing shudders and snuffles, his mumbles of "it hurts" swelled pangs of grief in her chest. She kept rubbing his arm and soothing, "It's going to be okay." She tangled their feet, looking for any way to pull him closer.

As he calmed, the bed stilled, absorbing his anguish. She offered, "Turn over - I'll rub your back. It'll help you sleep."

Kurt complied. Jane sat over his lower back and dug her hands into his shoulders, easing the deep tension lodged there. Sliding down his back, her hands worked his muscles, her touch telling each one things would be okay. Light breathing indicated he started to doze off, so she moved to lay next to him. Resting her arm across his back, she kissed his shoulder and whispered, "Sleep."

Jane woke to Kurt sitting next to her eating chocolate mousse. He held out a spoonful to her, yet she sadly declined. "It's not vegan."

His eyes crinkled in a warm smile. "It's yummy."

She rested her head on his shoulder while he ate, wrapping her arms around his middle. His mood was a pleasant change from the middle of the night. "Thank you for all your help with my mother," he shared.

"Of course."

"When you kept voicing her perspective, it felt like she was using you to rewrite history. I know you were trying to help me make better choices, but that was hard," he admitted, sharing how some of her behavior had affected him.

With him opening up, she needed to share her perspective too. "When you kept treating her as less than, that was hard. It's not behavior I'm used to seeing from you."

"There's a lot of history there," he justified.

"I know. My reaction had a lot of history behind it too."

"I know." He kissed the top of her head. "Thanks for giving me space yesterday."

She nodded. "You're so good at that. My technique could use some work."

He shrugged. "This mousse is on point." Licking the spoon, he set the plate aside and brought his arms around Jane. "I'm so glad you're here."

He dropped a few kisses against her neck. She assured, "There's nowhere else I'd be."

They sat in silence, happy to relax in a lazy embrace. Kurt eventually admitted, "Alright, we gotta start getting ready for work."

She ran her fingers along his side. "Do you want to come running with me at lunch today?"

"Sure. After I eat the wonderful meatballs my wife made me." He gave her one more kiss before moving to get up. "Thanks - you're the best."

She smiled - maybe her something to offer was enough.