A/N : Timeline is different than the show. Sandy and Kirsten split sometime after Marissa's death and Kirsten married Jimmy at least a year after her divorce so the canon event that happens in this chapter occurs later than it did in canon.
I figured my father would be happy. Or at the very least, quiet. He and Sandy had fought continually since the day they met. Dad always preferred Jimmy.
So when I married Jimmy, I assumed Dad would shut up about my choice in men. And he did. He and Jimmy got along great. Jimmy was purebred Newport and loved sailing. He and Dad often went out on the boat. I hate the ocean and barely even go near the docks for events on boats that are tied to land. Fish freak me out.
About three months into our marriage, it starts to annoy me that Jimmy and my dad don't fight. I can't grasp why I am so upset but I am. I miss the anger, the yelling. I miss standing up for my husband and later hearing about how sexy it is. I miss needing to defend my marriage, my love. I miss the mind blowing sex afterward.
Jimmy finds glory in the fact that he and my father get along in a way that Sandy never stood a chance to. Sometimes he talks and talks about it while I either ignore him or roll my eyes. I can't help but think that Sandy never annoyed me like this. But then Jimmy buys me lingerie, chocolates, diamonds, and flowers for Valentine's Day and that's more than Sandy would do. After we make love, Jimmy tells me how much he loves me and how much he missed me while we were apart. He tells me how hard it was to watch Sandy touch and kiss me all those years. I kiss his lips and ask him to not talk about Sandy while we are like this, cuddling, naked. He thinks it's because it's awkward for me to do so. But really it's because I fake orgasms when I am with Jimmy and it takes a lot of self control not to tell him that when he compares himself to Sandy.
Almost five months into our marriage, I find myself reading the paper in the dining room when my father and husband come back from sailing. I ask them how it went and don't listen to their answer. Dad knows I don't care but Jimmy never does. I find it so easy to lie to him. Mainly because he believes the lies without question. I felt so bad the first few times but I don't anymore and I'm not sure why.
I am concentrating on the newspaper when I hear my dad using his professional annoyed tone. It is the voice he usually reserves for important but difficult customers. He actually tries to be polite (which, if you know my dad, is a feat in itself) but is almost at the end of his rope. Since we are in my home and he is talking to my 'perfect' husband, I look up from the paper to find out what is going on.
Jimmy is prattling on about whatever while Dad is listening, leaning on the kitchen island. I can tell he is frustrated about something. Jimmy takes a sip of his beer and Dad takes this moment to speak. He lies to Jimmy about his stance on America's foreign policy. I scrunch my eyebrows at this. My father and Jimmy always agree when it comes to politics (and everything else). I don't understand why he is lying.
After Jimmy swallows his drink, he responds, "Everyone's entitled to their own opinions. I just think…" and on he went. My father sighed and his grip on the counter tightened. I was smirking widely as I looked back down at the paper. It was clear in that moment that my father missed Sandy Cohen.
It's unbelievable but obviously true. I laugh as I wonder if Sophie Cohen misses me in some way. I stop laughing as soon as it clicks in my mind that I miss her.
Jimmy's mother had always loved me. Had loved. Of course, that was before I broke her son's heart to go to Berkeley. Before I brought Sandy home and kept him close to me the whole time, protecting him from the Newpsies. She was angry with me now. For marrying her son too late and not providing her with 'perfect' grandchildren. She was angry that I hadn't fused the Coopers and the Nichols into a power family as soon as I could. I had ruined the plan that had been set since Jimmy and I were infants.
The Nana's anger and hatred I could take. She was semi-justified. Her son had stayed across the country from her so he could be with me. I came from a background that was everything she hated. My father stood for everything that could be wrong with a person and Sophie judged me as such. At the time, she had been wrong to do so because I was not my father. Although, now she'd have plenty of reasons to hate me.
A few months after my marriage to Jimmy was a year old, I read 'Sandy' on my cell phone and answered.
"Sandy, Seth can't stay with me next weekend. I'm going out of town!" Seth was common fighting ground for us. It was hard enough when we were still together for us to agree on how to raise and discipline Seth. Now, without us being 'a united front', as Sandy always put it, there was little to no chance.
"Seth's not why I am calling." There's something in his voice that makes my heart stop. I could tell that something was not right. I try not to but I transform into Kirsten Cohen again.
My voice softened. "What's wrong?" I asked but he would not answer. Something clicked and I realized that I wasn't talking to Sandy but instead I was talking to the Mayor of Newport. He was talking to the Ice Queen and was not going to tell her what was wrong. "Sandy. Tell me." I hoped my tone told him that the walls were down.
"My sister called. My mom. She has cancer. I…"
"Where are you?"
"My office."
"I'm coming." I snap the phone shut and rush to him, berating myself as I go. I tell myself that he is my ex and I can't just go comfort him. But a tiny part of my heart screams the loudest. 'Sandy is hurting,' and that's all I need to hear.
I open the massive door to his office and it shuts itself behind me. He was sitting in his chair looking out the window but, upon hearing his door open, turned around immediately. He gets up and walks toward me.
"I wanted to be alone and no one's here because it is Saturday." His voice sends chills across my skin. I look into his eyes and can tell that he hasn't cried yet. I wonder if the Mayor of Newport cries.
I don't think. I just do what that tiny part of my heart shouts at me and throw my arms around him, pulling his head into my neck. Hesitating at first, soon I feel his arms surround me, holding me tight.
"It's going to be okay." I tell him, stroking his hair.
"Why are you doing this?" I know he is asking me why I am being nice. I also know that he is saying, 'I don't know why you are doing this but please don't stop.'
With his head still buried into my neck, I answer, "I know what it's like to hear that news. It's killing me to know you are hurting like that."
"That's odd considering hurting each other is what we do best these days." He sounds amused though I don't know why. But it works for us.
It takes a moment before I ask. "Why was I the first one you called?"
He lifts his head from my shoulder and looks into my eyes. "How would you know that?"
"I still know you, Sandy. I still think of you. Sometimes I even miss you." I admit, although I cannot figure out why.
I am looking up into his eyes and he is staring right back into mine. He used to do this to me all the time. Look into my eyes and read my soul. I realize that my chest is rising at an alarming rate as my breathing quickens. He is staring at me with that look. And I am not looking away. The hair on my arms is standing up and suddenly the room is very hot. It reminds me of our old Berkeley days when he or I would say one thing, one simple word, and suddenly the sexual tension was through the roof.
Perhaps seduction was his plan all along, I think for one second before Sandy's lips are desperately pushing against mine. I let him in immediately. His hands are on my hips as I pull his face closer and closer.
Before I know it, my spine shrieks, telling me I've been pushed against the wall, hard. Before my spine stops yelling, my legs shout instructions for me to wrap my legs around his waist, which I waste no time doing. Our kiss is sloppy but it feels too good to correct it. Sandy breaks away from me and kisses down my neck to my chest and further still, pulling my shirt down so he can kiss the rise of my breasts. I moan louder than I have in forever and he smiles against my skin.
I know that he has figured out everything by the volume of the moan and the fact that it took less than 45 seconds to get me there. He knows immediately that he is indeed superior to Jimmy in the bedroom, like I told him for years. He also knows that I have been neglected and the look in his eyes tells me he is about to fix that.
He turns away from the wall and walks the two of us to the couch while I lick, kiss, and bite at his neck. We lay down and, before I can think, his hands are all over me. They run over and then under clothes. He pulls at the material, stripping me of it. I hurry to catch up with him, tugging at his shirt and pants. While I work at undressing him, he is making his way down my body. He moves fast, desperate to please me. His fingers tease while his lips have me nearing the edge of control. Finally, I succeed and he is as unclothed as I am. It does not take long before he and I are both sweaty and panting. It felt better than it ever had. I figure on account of how long it had been since we had been together it was destined to be amazing. He remembers every sensitive spot I have and manipulates me to the point that I am screaming his name.
I am trying to be careful not to leave evidence, as is he. But we both lack control at certain points. He has to pause to stop my fingernails which probably have caused his back to look like he has been attacked by a wolf. I have to pull his hair, hard, to get him to stop sucking on my neck, though I am sure there's already a bruise. We are acting like animals and I'm sure we sound like them too.
We push each other further and further until we are over the edge and he collapses on top of me. I run my hands through his soaked hair and am engulfed by his scent, which is so primal to me that I am turned on again. Our chests pound into one another as we try to breathe again.
I close my eyes and they are not shut long before thoughts creep into my mind.
I've just cheated on my husband…
with my ex-husband…
and I shouldn't have…
but I don't regret it. what is wrong with you?…
it felt too good to be sorry about it…
Sandy picks his head up from my shoulder and I wonder if perhaps I said all that out loud or perhaps he had read my mind again. Then worse, I think, maybe he regrets this all together and he is thinking about Julie and how he's hurt her.
Before I can ask him anything, he leans in and kisses me. I kiss him back as his hands make their way slowly down my body. He stops kissing me and looks into my eyes and I know that he is asking me. I push my body into his and kiss him again.
We start the process over again and before he touches me somewhere that would immediately clear my mind, I laugh to myself at the thought that it had been Sophie Cohen that brought us back together at least for today.