Oh my god you guys, I'm sooo sorry about disappearing for 6+ months. My life just got incredibly hectic, and I completely stopped writing, not just this story but all of them. My schedule finally opened up again and I've been writing like crazy the last few days!

To me, this chapter feels a little different than the others, but I think that's due to my unexpected hiatus. Hopefully, it still blends well, though.

xvi.

Tommy pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket as he walked through his small apartment, turning on a couple of lights along the way. He had just returned home from a night out with the guys, and was ready to turn in after a couple of smokes and a drink. Just as he had sat down and lit one up, there was a firm knocking on his door, causing Tommy to groan—who the hell would be coming by his place at this time anyway? For a moment, he considered ignoring it, but then the person was knocking again, this time even louder than before. So, Tommy stood and quickly made for the day, prepared to tell whoever was on the other side to just fuck off.

But when he threw open the door, he came face-to-face with Marilyn, who was shivering a little from the cold and panting as is if she was in some kind of a rush. They stared at each other for a few long moments, and Tommy noticed the anger behind her eyes. Was it directed at him? He hadn't done anything, at least not to his knowledge. But why else would she show up here like this?

Without a word, Marilyn brushed past him and into the apartment. Tommy was still frozen in surprise briefly, but finally shut and locked the front door before turning to the woman.

"What brings you here tonight, hun?" He asked, trying to lighten the tension in the room. But Marilyn's gaze was still harsh. The two, again, stared at each other silently, and Tommy couldn't seem to figure out the situation at all.

Finally, she spoke:

"Why do I always have people tellin' me you're bad news?" That's not what Marilyn actually wanted to talk about, but it was, at least, a start. Tommy tried to act confused (a part of him still was, though not by the question), "My friends always warn me about ya, Tommy, and I need to know why."

"And why is it even important? Why does it matter?" He questioned, eyes narrowing a little.

Marilyn sighed deeply, eyes never leaving his as she spoke firmly, "Because you're my friend, but if you're dangerous or your gonna get me into some kinda trouble, I may as well back out now before it's too late."

Tommy, for a moment, was surprised that she actually considered him a friend. Sure, she was friendly and flirty with him most of the time, but even still Marilyn was stand off-ish, and sometimes it was impossible to read her. He was also surprised by her tone—why was she so aggressive tonight?

"What's gotten into you?" He asked in a similar tone to hers as his voice rose, "Why are you angry with me? I haven't done shit to you, and I haven't done shit to deserve this!"

"I'm not angry with you!" Marilyn yelled back, taking a step closer. Briefly, Tommy suddenly saw hurt in the woman's eyes, "But you're avoiding my question, and that's scaring me."

The tension between them was thick, both staring sternly at the other. Tommy didn't know what to say, what to tell her. What he did when they weren't together was his business, not Marilyn's. And sure, she consider him to be a friend, but who says he thought the same of her? Who said she even mattered to him?

But a part of him knew. A part of Tommy knew that she was his friend, whether he'd admit to it or not. Granted, a friend that he slept with often (which was never a good idea, of that he was certain), but nonetheless, she was almost closer to him than some of the guys he'd known for years.

After a minute, Tommy groaned and ran a hand through his hair.

"Fine okay, maybe I am bad news. I've got arrests under my belt, I've done time…" Marilyn's eyes wavered. A part of her, of course, wasn't surprised. But another part certainly wasn't ready to hear it, especially when those arrests could've been for a number of things, "I'm a thief, I sell stolen goods, I've broken into a lotta places, I borrow money from some bad people. But that don't mean I'm bad person."

Marilyn was quiet, unsure how to respond. So, he was a thief. It could be worse, she told herself. But, nonetheless, that does still mean he was a criminal.

'But isn't every other person around here?' she thought, trying to decide just how to respond to Tommy's confession. Marilyn knew a lot of people in this neighborhood were just like him, some even worse, but she never had the intentions of getting involved with someone like that. Did it change her perception of him? Maybe a little. Because, for all she knew, she could get unintentionally involved. Or Tommy could get himself into some serious trouble, which she didn't like the thought of at all. Marilyn felt like she was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"Are ya gonna leave?" Tommy finally broke the silence, causing Marilyn's gaze to return to him, "Now that ya know everyone else was right about me, are you gonna pretend we neva' met?"

Marilyn frowned a little. What was she going to do? She was confused, she felt lost. Sure, she's had to deal with some tough stuff, but she never had to deal with this before.

"No…" she finally muttered, looking at the ground. Tommy had crossed his arms, watching her carefully with a furrowed brow. Marilyn thought about what she actually wanted to say to him, "You steal, yeah, but that doesn't make you a bad person." She reiterated his words back to him, "A lot of people do that…" She waited another beat before continuing,"And until you do something that could hurt me or one of my friends… I don't care what you do for money."

Tommy was shocked. That's not what he expected. He thought she'd tell him to get a real job, or to bother someone else, or something. But this? He wasn't ready for. And certainly not from Marilyn. He, once more, felt at a loss for words, and all he could do was stare into her inundated, green eyes.

xvii.

Marilyn was utterly surprised by herself. Was she really okay with all this? Was Tommy that important to her that she could overlook this? If she had discovered that Rita or Julie or any of her friends had a criminal record, would she have done the same thing?

Of course she would. They were more important to her than her family, and she wouldn't want to lose them for anything. And, now, Tommy was in that same category. Too important to lose.

She couldn't believe it. Marilyn finally admitted to herself that she cared about him. Tommy probably realized that too, and that scared her like nothing else she'd recently experienced. She felt vulnerable and a little weak, which a man hadn't made her feel in years.

Last time she had let a man get this close, she was sixteen and naive. She let an older guy convince her she mattered to him. She had herself convinced she was in love. But he hurt her, treated her like shit, and expected her never to leave. And she almost didn't. But when she did finally get out of it, Marilyn was a broken person. It took years for her to become this tough, no shit woman that she was, and now it felt as if she was becoming that weak teenager once more.

But Marilyn learned from her mistakes. She learned how to take care of herself, she learned who to trust and who to turn away. And Tommy should've been one of those people she pushed away, at least when they first met. But she couldn't. Tommy was more than she expected, and there was no getting rid of him now, not after they've become so close.

Of course, Marilyn was afraid, there was no denying that. She was afraid of getting hurt, but she was just as afraid of losing him. However, she was prepared to handle it like the tough bitch she was, of that she was certain.

xviii.

Marilyn had stayed the night.

After their little debacle, the defeated and broken aura around her made Tommy feel something akin to sadness. He wasn't sad for her, but he felt for her, and it made him realize that he cared just as much as she did.

'You're growing weak, DeVito.' he told himself as he sat silently in the living room, watching the clock as it approached 1 am. Marilyn had gone to bed hours prior, but Tommy couldn't sleep. How could he? He let very few people get close to him, and even then he treated some of them like shit (though he wouldn't admit to that), because that was his way of maintaining control, of both himself and of situations. Tommy Devito didn't need anyone.

But Marilyn? Well, he felt for her in a way he wasn't familiar with. Was it romantic? At this point, Tommy wasn't sure, he just couldn't tell. He didn't really know what romance felt like, it was something he managed to keep out of his life all these years, because he had no desire for it. He never had any intentions of letting Marilyn get so close to him. And yet, somewhere along the line, he started caring about her, and that became his downfall.

Finally, it was nearly 1:15, and Tommy stood. He needed rest. He hoped that maybe he could sleep some of this stress off.

When he finally crawled onto the mattress, Tommy found that Marilyn was curled up in the middle of the all the blankets on the bed, and he felt frozen for a moment as he thought back on the evening they just had.

With a final sigh, he lied down next to her and, against his better judgment, draped an arm around her waist, shifting closer in hopes of getting some decent sleep.

xix.

A few days later, Marilyn felt incredibly refreshed. That night with Tommy was a little stressful, yes, but all she needed was a bit of time and she was back to her usual self. She had yet to talk to Rita or Tommy again, mostly because she was afraid to have the conversations that would surely come up. She wasn't yet ready to deal with that kind of stress again. But she needed to talk to someone, that she knew. So, she decided to call Abigail.

Abigail was easily the sweetest of the group, and Marilyn never felt judged in her presence. And she had two kids that just made Marilyn's heart swell, because they were just as sweet as their mother. Sometimes, Marilyn felt like the woman was almost too good to be spending time with the kind of people she kept as friends.

Like Marilyn, Abigail wasn't from New Jersey. Marilyn came from Massachusetts, whereas Abigail was from New York, so the two were familiar with sometimes feeling out of place among others around the town. They were very different people, yet they got along very well. Somehow their opposing personalities meshed well.

Marilyn arrived to Abigail's home early in the afternoon. The family lived in a nice neighborhood, a place that almost felt too nice for Marilyn to be allowed in; they were all detached homes with beautiful, light exteriors and large grassy yards. The inside of Abigail's house was simple, but the furniture was, nonetheless, nicer than anything Marilyn ever owned. Anyone that met Abigail on the street would have never guessed she was a part of the upper class based just on personality alone (especially not with the friends she kept in her company); she was incredibly humble about it. If it was ever brought up, she would just talk proudly about her husband, who worked very hard to be able to provide such a life for his family.

Abigail and Marilyn were currently in the living room, with a view of the children running around in the backyard.

"What's happened the last few days?" Abigail asked in concern, "I only got to hear Rita's side of the story, and when I did hear it, she was still in a foul mood."

Marilyn sighed, "I just became overwhelmed with everyone's comments, ya know? I didn't want everyone talking about me as if I did something wrong, because I didn't. And I was upset with Rita, she told ya something I wasn't ready to tell anyone else."

Abigail nodded, stealing a look toward her kids, "I didn't know that. I don't think any of us knew Rita was spilling a secret."

"I don't think she knew, either." Marilyn added.

"It's just that we all tell each other everything, you know? She just wasn't thinking. And I know that she feels sorry for it, she's just too afraid of apologizing because she thinks you're still mad."

"A part of me is." Marilyn picked up her glass, taking a sip of it's contents, "Like you said, she wasn't thinking, so that pisses me off just a little. She cares, I get that, but I think she's going a little overboard."

Abigail chuckled, "You're telling me. The other day she was talking to me about how to take care of kids as if I didn't already have two of them." The pair shared a laugh, "Being a new mother is wearing her out, I can tell. That's probably why she's been acting so… over dramatic."

Marilyn hadn't considered that. Of course that's why Rita's been so overwhelming lately. That only eased Marilyn a little, though. She was still sour after their last interaction, and it would take a little longer for her to relax.

"Should I apologize to her?"

Abigail raised a thin eyebrow, "For what? You didn't do anything." She smiled gently, "Rita should apologize to you, plain and simple. Like I said, she's just not ready. I think it's because she's afraid of you." Again, the two snickered.

"Isn't everyone a little afraid of me?" It was more of a statement than a question—Marilyn had always tried to intimidate people, probably because she felt so small and vulnerable for so long.

"I think most people probably are."

"Are you?" Marilyn asked curiously, causing Abigail to giggle.

"I can tell you're too much of a softy under that tough shell of yours." The response caused Marilyn to smile brightly at her friend, feeling a little better with how her day was going.

xx.

Tommy was with Nick, going through a new container of jewelry they just got in that night; it was full of primarily pearls, making him a little annoyed. It was always pearls, when were they going to get some variety in here?

Tommy hadn't told Nick (or anyone else, for that matter) about everything going on with Marilyn. For the last month and a half, he had them all convinced he slept with her once and that was the end of it. For whatever reason, he just couldn't bring himself to let them in on the full truth of the situation. Was he embarrassed? Certainly not of Marilyn. But he was embarrassed by himself. By the fact that he was different with her than with any other girl. By the fact that he was the guy who laughed at others for this kind of shit.

Luckily for him, no one asked about Marilyn. Everyone knew the kind of guy Tommy was (or they thought they knew), so they didn't bother with it. They assumed she was nothing special, just like every other girl he slept with. And, for a while, Tommy wanted to keep it that way. But every now and again, he'd catch himself about to say something about her, and then holding his tongue in fear of what the guys would say. It was beginning to really bother him.

"Hey, Nicky," he spoke before he could catch himself. Nick glanced up questioningly, and Tommy realized he had no idea what to say. After a couple awkward moments, he said the first thing that came to mind, "How's your family?"

Nick was obviously confused—he knew Tommy didn't give two fucks about Nick's parents or siblings, "They're fine. Now what'd ya really wanna talk about, Tommy?"

Tommy mentally kicked himself. Of course Nick knew something was up. He was being stupid.

"And that girl o' yours, how's she?"

Nick rolled his eyes, "Tommy, come on."

They were silent for a long time, and eventually Nick went back to organizing shelves of products, waiting for Tommy to be the one to break the silence. But Tommy just wasn't ready to talk, because he had no idea what the hell to even say. So, they continued on in silence, and Tommy wondered if he'd ever be ready to talk to anyone about Marilyn.

xxi.

Tommy returned home that night to find Marilyn sitting in front of his door, cigarette in hand. He was confused at first (because last time he saw her, he thought she was going to start something with him), but sighed once she looked up with an innocent expression.

"We really need ta start coordinating schedules." She said simply. Tommy offered a hand to help her up, but she stood on her own as he unlocked the door, "Tried calling, but when you didn't answer I said 'fuck it' and decided to come over and wait."

"Maybe you need a key." Tommy replied jokingly, though for a brief moment both he and Marilyn wondered if there was any truth to it, "Why ya here, anyway?"

She shrugged, "Wanted to see you."

"So, ya missed me." Tommy smirked slightly, "You can't just show up here whenever ya want, ya know, I'm out a lot."

"Yeah, yeah, but my place gets unbearable, especially with those stupid roommates I have." Tommy had never seen Marilyn's place. Hell, he didn't even know she lived with roommates. It made him realize just how little they actually learned about each other in all the time they spent together.

"What about ya other friends?"

It's not that Tommy didn't want to see Marilyn (it was quite the opposite), but he hadn't been prepared to see her sitting on his doorstep, that's for sure. Tommy hoped she didn't assume she was unwanted here.

"Busy, they actually have lives." She replied with a small grin.

Tommy looked amused, "Oh, and I don't?" Marilyn just shook her head as she sat on his couch. Tommy continued to grin at her before going to the kitchen to grab two beers, "But what's that say about you, hangin' around with a deadbeat like me?"

"It says that I feel bad for you and, like the incredibly charitable person I am, have been gracious enough to give you something to do with your day." Tommy laughed as he sat beside her.

"Keep tellin' yourself that, hun." He handed Marilyn one of the two drinks, and for a minute they sat in companionable silence, "So, ya just here to… hang out, then?"

Marilyn deadpanned, "No, I came here to start plotting my world domination." The sarcasm in her tone made Tommy grin widely.

"Well, someone's particularly snippy today." Marilyn looked toward Tommy fondly.

"I just like giving you shit." She replied, "And I know you can handle it, sweetheart."

"I can definitely handle you, hun." Tommy replied with a wink, causing Marilyn to smirk, "I'm not so sure if you can handle me, though."

"Oh, is that so?" She perked up a little, a glint of mischief in her eyes as she set down her drink, "I think I can more than handle you."

"You're gonna have to prove that." Tommy similarly set his drink on the table, giving his complete attention to the woman beside.

"And how do you suppose I should do that?" Marilyn inched a little closer, voice growing huskier, and Tommy's grin only grew.

Tommy reach for her, setting a hand on her thigh and slowly moving the material of her skirt, "You'll just have to figure that one out…"

I hope this chapter was a good return from the hiatus. As always, leave a review if you can!