— Lucille's POV —

— Eleven years ago —

I walk through the door, setting my keys on the end table and, boy, am I glad to be home. I had four homes to show today, plus I had to finish up paperwork on the house I sold that I didn't get to yesterday. So my day was hectic.

Negan strolls toward me from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel and flipping it over his shoulder to rest it there. I walk up to him and kiss his cheek.

"How was your first day back?" I ask.

"I already can't wait for the fuckin' next summer break."

I laugh at him. He jokes, but I know he loves his job. He always gets restless halfway through summer vacation and can't wait to get back to it.

"After only one day?" I snicker.

He walks back into the kitchen and I follow him. It looks like he was making a lasagna for dinner when I interrupted him. He goes back to making it as I lean on the counter beside him.

"The kids seem like little assholes this year," he says as he adds some of his sauce to the dish.

I bend down to take off my heels. "So no new favorites have jumped out at you yet?"

"Fuck no. But I did run into this freshman girl who is by far the shyest person I've ever fuckin' met. She's cute as fuck, but she looked fuckin' terrified walking around the halls. I tried to help her out, see if she was fuckin' lost or some shit and she got the worst fuckin' hiccups I've ever heard a person get. Then she got all flustered, turned beet red, and fuckin' ran away from me. Like actually ran away."

"Oh no! The poor thing!" That just breaks my heart.

"Yeah. I felt kinda bad about it, actually."

"Girls can be so vulnerable at that age. You need to be extra nice to her."

"See. That's why I fuckin' hate teenage girls. No matter what, I end up saying the wrong fuckin' thing. Girls are fuckin' complicated and shit. Teenage boys are fuckin' easy. I wish I had gotten that job at that boys school I applied for." He places the lasagna in the oven and cleans up the mess he made.

"A strong male figure like you can make a difference for a girl like her, though. You need to take her under your wing and make sure high school isn't a bad experience for her. Remember that one girl in our school that was so shy and bullied and she tried to kill herself. What was her name...?"

"Joan ...something," he answers.

"Joan Miller. That's it. You don't want that poor girl to end up like that."

"Jesus Christ, Lucille! Of course I don't want her to fuckin' slit her wrists!"

"Please don't let her get bullied."

"I'm not gonna let her get bullied. Shit. I don't let any of the kids get bullied. That shit does not fly with me. But I'm more worried about the boys with her because that girl is definitely an early bloomer. She's got bigass titties for a fuckin' fourteen year old."

"Negan!" I swat his arm.

"What? I'm not fuckin' looking at them, but I'm not blind. I'm pretty sure I watched some of those boys go through spontaneous puberty when they saw her."

I clutch my chest as I say, "Poor thing."

I feel for the girl. My own high school experience was really good. I was popular and had many friends, but I saw how some of my classmates struggled and it broke my heart. Kids can be so cruel sometimes. But I love that Negan cares about his kids. He makes sure that everyone flourishes and becomes the best adults they can. I know that if he sees a kid that needs help, he'll do everything he can to help them. He's really amazing to the kids he teaches.

I really wish I could've made him a father...

A few months have passed and Negan's stories of "the hiccup girl" have become more and more infrequent. The poor girl pops into my mind one night as Negan and I are getting into bed.

"What happened to that girl that gets the hiccups? You never talk about her anymore." I lean over and turn my bedside light off.

"I stopped talking to her." He clicks his light off and sinks underneath the comforter.

"Oh, honey. That might hurt her feelings. You just ignoring her."

"I'm not fuckin' ignoring her. I tried for a long time to get her to fuckin' open up to me, but literally every time I talked to her she would get the fuckin' hiccups. And I know you think it's fuckin' cute that she hiccups, but you should see her face. She gets so goddamn embarrassed and upset about it. I swear I saw her eyes fill with fuckin' tears a few times."

"That poor girl." I lay my hand on my chest. "Oh, it just breaks my heart. Does she have any friends?"

"Not That I've seen. She a good student. Smart as fuck, but she so fuckin' self conscious and shy. And she's, like, fuckin' invisible to everyone. Or most people, anyway. I went to one of the guidance counselors and told them she needed help."

"Well, I hope they do their job."

"Yeah. Me, too. But they'll probably just give her a fuckin' pamphlet and send her on her way."

— Ten years ago —

"Hey, baby?" Negan calls me into the living room from where I am in the kitchen.

"Yeah?" I call out as I walk over to him sitting on the couch.

"You wanna go to the school's band concert tonight?"

"Of course I do!" I say excitedly. I love going to school events, but Negan usually hates it. Except for sporting events, of course.

"Yeah." He snickers. "I figured you'd wanna fuckin' go."

An hour later and we are entering the auditorium.

"Let's sit up front." I try to lead Negan down the isle, but he plants his feet to the ground.

"No. Let's sit right fuckin' here."

Those seats are more in the back which mean I can't see very much. I suppose that doesn't really matter since we're just listening to music anyway. The rest of the seats fill up nicely and I'm glad that people decided to come out to support the music department.

The kids do really well with the songs and I enjoy the concert very much. There is even one redheaded girl that plays the guitar very well. She even has a solo on the electric guitar which everyone seems to enjoy.

After the curtain closes and the applause dies down, I turn to Negan and say, "That was remarkable. Those kids are very talented."

"Yeah. They didn't do too fuckin' bad."

"I want to congratulate them."

"Ugh," he groans. "I wanna fuckin' leave."

"Oh, stop. It'll be five minutes."

We both walk toward the stage and see several of the kids standing around in front of it. I notice that the redhead isn't there and it disappoints me. I really want to tell her that she is a very talented young woman.

"You all did very well tonight," I say to the teenagers.

"Thank you, Mrs. Negan," some of them respond.

"Good job," Negan adds in his nonchalant way.

"Thanks, Coach," a few of the kids say excitedly. It's clear that the children respect him and value his opinion of them.

We take our leave after that, since Negan doesn't want to stick around much longer.

A few days later, I attend one of Negan's baseball games. I love to see him coach the kids. He always pushes them to do their best without being so overbearing and crushing their spirit like some coaches do.

"Good luck, honey," I call out through the fence behind his dugout.

He walks over to me and gives me a peck on the lips through the fence. "We don't need fuckin' luck cuz we got fuckin' skills."

"Of course, honey." I chuckle. "I'm going to get some popcorn before the game starts."

I give him another kiss and walk off closer to the entrance. I had seen some kids setting up the popcorn machine as I came in and now two kids, one boy and one girl, are sitting behind it handing out boxes of popcorn and taking the money. As I get closer, I read the sign on the table saying that the money benefits the band. And then I notice that the girl taking the money is the redhead that played the guitar.

I am just about ready to congratulate her on the concert when I look closely at her face and I just about gasp in shock. She looks like me when I was her age. Just like me. She looks so much like me, it is like looking in a mirror from twenty years ago. The only real difference is her jade green eyes instead of my blue ones. And that she is more buxom than I was at that age. But still... It's uncanny.

"Did you want something, ma'am?" The boy's voice jars me from my thoughts.

"Oh, yes. I'll take some popcorn."

He hands me the box and I give the girl the dollar it cost. I can't bring myself to say anything more to her, so I thank the both of them and go back to the bleachers, still out of sorts from the experience.

After the game, I meet back up with Negan and we walk back to our car. He opens the door for me and I get in, with him getting into the driver's seat a moment later.

"Who was the girl selling popcorn?" I ask him as he starts the car. Negan may not know her, but if he does, I wonder why he didn't tell me that there is a girl who could pass for my daughter walking around.

"I don't fuckin' know. I didn't pay attention."

"She was the one that played the guitar at the concert the other night. The redhead."

"Oh. That's Chuck." He glances over to me then back to the road. "That's the hiccup girl."

"That's the hiccup girl? And you didn't mention that she looks just like someone else?" I say a little sarcastically.

"I don't really think about what those kids fuckin' look like."

"So you don't think she looks familiar?" He has to see it. He knew me when I was her age, so he has to remember what I used to look like.

"Not really. Who do you think she fuckin' looks like?"

I stare at him as he speaks and I can tell that he isn't lying. He really doesn't think she resembles me. The clueless look on his face makes me laugh.

"Maybe I'm thinking of an actress or something," I lie.

He shrugs and makes a little grunt.

"She's really cute, though," I push, trying to see if he'll get the joke I'm trying to pull on him. "With that gorgeous hair and big eyes."

"I guess. She's more cute like a fuckin' bunny rabbit."

"You don't think she's beautiful?"

He looks at me with his eyebrows furrowed and I think that he's figured it out. "She's fuckin' fifteen. I'm not gonna say she's fuckin' beautiful like a goddamn pedophile."

I laugh at him because I know he would never look at one of his students inappropriately. "Negan!"

He really is blind to it. That Chuck looks like me. It's almost cute in a way. I wonder how long I can tease him before he realizes it.

— Nine years ago —

How did I let my garden get so many weeds? It seems like it's taking my entire Sunday off to clear them! But I don't mind; I love getting my hands dirty in the garden. And it is a gorgeous day out today. From where I am, I can see Negan toiling away in the garage at his motorcycle, too. And the view is pretty good, if I do say so myself. He always wears these tank top undershirts when he works in the garage and they fit him just right.

I decide to take a little break, so I go in and make up some lemonade, bringing a glass out to my husband after I have my own drink.

"Want some lemonade, honey?" I ask him as he is bent down working on the engine, I think.

"Fuck yes!" he exclaims as he straightens himself up. "That sounds goddamn great!"

I hand him the glass and he drinks about half of it in one drink. "Is it going well out here with your bike."

"Not bad. How's the garden?"

"I swear all those weeds popped up in one day!"

He takes another gulp before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I got a meeting tonight, so I was thinking, I'll pick up some fried chicken or something after and bring it back for dinner."

"A meeting?" I question. All of his athletic department meetings are on Thursdays. And most of the school meetings are right after dismissal. So what kind of meeting could he have?

I assume that he wants to meet with one of his mistresses. But he usually doesn't lie to me outright because I always call him out on it. He just tries to be discreet and doesn't tell me what he's doing.

I know that I probably should just leave him for his infidelities, and I almost did after I caught him the first time, but I love him. And I know that he truly loves me and not his flings. All the other women he just uses for sex. If he actually developed real feelings for any of them, I would leave him in a heartbeat. Even so, it still hurts to know that I'm not enough to satisfy him in the bedroom.

"Yeah. A meeting," he repeats, annoyance seeping into his tone.

"Come on, Negan. It's Sunday," I say lowly.

He sneers at me and furrows his brow. "I'm not fuckin' lying to you, Lucille. It's a goddamn school board meeting. Those are on fucking Sundays."

"A school board meeting? You never go to those."

"Well I'm going to this one. You can come along if you don't fuckin' believe me." He sets his glass on the counter and goes back to working on his bike.

Later on that night, we drive out to the auditorium, take our seats, and listen as the speakers start. The meeting's topic tonight is the budget and how they can cut costs. Maybe the athletic budget is going to get cut and that's why Negan wants to be here.

"Alright. We're going to open the floor up to questions or concerns," the speaker says as she points to the microphones placed on the edges of the auditorium.

Negan gets up and starts to make his way toward the far aisle and it surprises me. He never told me that his program is under threat of budget cuts. And that is the only reason I can see that he would be talking at a school board meeting.

It isn't Negan's turn yet, so he waits patiently for the first woman to say her piece. When she's done, the speaker, Sally, turns to Negan and addresses him.

"Coach Negan, the athletic department budget for next year is secured. You don't have to worry about it being cut."

"I fuckin' know that," he replies as he leans into the microphone that is positioned too low for his tall frame.

"Coach, I'm going to have to ask you to refrain from swearing," Sally requests with a smug tone. She hates my husband and the way he talks. Even trying to get him in trouble several times before, but he is such a good teacher and coach, that nothing ever stuck. And most of the parents stood up for him because they see very positive changes in their children because of my husband, despite his colorful language.

"Fine," Negan says to her. "I'm here to tell you not to cut the music program."

That's why he wanted to come here? To try to save the band? Why?

Oh. It's for her. The girl. The shy girl that looks like me. Chuck. He wants to save the music program for her. That's so noble and sweet. He's looking out for the girl that won't speak out for herself. He's being her voice when she doesn't have one of her own.

This is the man I love. The man I married. The one that cares about people so much, even if he says he doesn't.

"The music program?" Sally questions with furrowed brows.

"Yes, the fucking music program."

Sally lets out a gasp at his curse, but Negan just keeps going.

"All those kids in the band are good fuckin' kids. And for a lot of them, the band is their only extracurricular. If you take that away from them, not only are you taking away something that they fuckin' love, but you're taking away their chances of getting into college, because colleges love fuckin' extracurriculars. And for most of those kids, this school offers nothing else that they could do, because year after year, shit like the art club, science club, a/v club, fuckin' French club is getting cut. We, all of us here, have a duty, not only to teach these kids fuckin' math and shit, but to make sure that when we release them out into the world, they will make this world a better fuckin' place. The way we do that is by nurturing their creative sides, as well as their fuckin' intellects. And cutting all the shit that makes these kids happy, even if it is just the nerdy fuckin' kids, will be detrimental to them and, thus, all the rest of us. Because if any of these kids fail, then we all fuckin' fail."

As Negan walks away from the microphone to take his seat, several people in the crowd stand up and start to clap. It brings a tear to my eye to see him fighting so hard for the kids that might've gone unnoticed otherwise.

When we get back to the car, I can't take my eyes off my husband. I truly am in awe of him sometimes, and this is one of those moments.

He looks over to me and chuckles. "Oh, shit. I know that fuckin' look. Am I gonna get some road head right now?"

I slap him on the arm and yell at him. "Negan! We are too old to do stuff like that anymore!"

He shrugs at me and I chuckle. "So why are you giving me that fuckin' look?"

"Because I love you so much. What you did tonight was so honorable and it just made my heart swell with pride that you're my husband."

"Well, shit, sweetheart." He seems almost embarrassed at my praise.

"I know that you did this for Chuck and I just love that you're looking out for her."

He starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot. "You should see her sometimes. She walks around the halls and never raises her fuckin' head. She looks like a little lost fuckin' puppy dog all the time! Except when she's playing music. Then she comes fuckin' alive. I can't let them take that shit away from her. I can't."

Like any relationship, ours ebbed and flowed. We are good for a while, then we'll fight for a while. We happen to be going through a fighting period at this moment. Pretty much every conversation ends in an argument.

I'm sitting on the couch reading when Negan stomps in.

"What the fuck is this?!"

I look up and see that he is holding the negative pregnancy test I had taken yesterday and buried in the bathroom garbage so he wouldn't find it. But of course he did. "What does it look like?" I snipe back. He probably doesn't deserve that, but it came out without me thinking about it.

"You thought you were fucking pregnant and you didn't fucking tell me?" His tone is angry but also has hints of being hurt.

I let out a sigh and close my book, setting it on the coffee table. "I didn't really think I was pregnant. You know what the doctor said. That I can't... But I was late and I just... I thought maybe there would be a miracle, but there wasn't. I didn't want to get your hopes up, so I didn't tell you."

"Goddamnit, Lucille. We do this shit together. This isn't just on you, okay? This is both of our fuckin' lives."

"I don't know why you even care so much. You can always get one of your mistresses pregnant." I know the second it leaves my mouth that it is such a low blow. And I see the hurt flash over his face.

He doesn't say a word to me and practically runs out the door, slamming it shut so hard that one of our wedding pictures falls off the wall and shatters.

— Eight years ago —

I'm digging around in the garden when Negan comes home from school. He gives me a big smile and walks over to me as I stand up.

"Hello, beautiful," he growls as he hugs me and picks me up off the ground, making me squeal.

"You're in a good mood," I say and he sets me back on my feet.

"Why the fuck wouldn't I be?"

I follow him inside and into the kitchen. He goes straight to the refrigerator and grabs a beer as I go to the sink to wash the dirt from my hands. "I just like when you're in a good mood." I turn around and watch as he takes a gulp from his beer.

"I played chess today."

"Oh!" I say excitedly. I know he loves chess, but never gets the chance to play it. I never could learn how to play. Simon couldn't either. "Who did you play with?"

"Chuck. And she's a fucking amazing player."

"Oh, really?" Negan told me the other day that Chuck had hurt her ankle and needs one on one classes to make up her gym credits. I love that he's willing to work with her so she doesn't have to worry about not graduating. "Did she win?"

"No. I did. But she definitely gave me a run for my fuckin' money." He finishes the beer and throws the bottle out.

I snicker at him. It isn't often that people can beat Negan at anything, so I love that she possibly could. "So she's as good as you are?"

"Maybe." He leans back on the counter. "But she told me she wasn't any good when I asked her if she could fuckin' play. I don't fuckin' understand why she would downplay her abilities."

"Well," I walk over to him to lean on the counter beside him, "she just needs people to show her that she has no reason to doubt herself. Being a teenage girl can be hard. People pulling you in all different directions, telling you that you're a woman, but also a child. It can be rough."

"You weren't like her at that age."

Oh, so he does remember me at that age! But he still has yet to mention that Chuck and I look similar. For some reason, he can't see it.

"To some degree, I was. I second guessed myself, at times. You know, I think me and Chuck are pretty similar, if you think about how I was back then." Alright, now I'm almost overtly telling him. Almost every time Negan mentions Chuck, I joke with him about how she looks, but he just never gets it.

He laughs. "You and Chuck are nothing alike. I mean, the only thing even remotely alike between the two of you is that she's fuckin' sweet and innocent like you were." He turns to stand in front of me and leans over me to kiss me softly. "And you still are, even with me being the little fuckin' devil on your shoulder."

A few weeks later, I walk in after coming home from work and ask how Negan's day went.

He looks up from the newspaper he was reading and answers, "It was fine."

I sit down beside him and take my heels off. "How'd the chess game go?"

"She kicked my ass."

I snuggle up beside Negan and he puts his arm around me. "That's my girl."

"I'm gonna get some drinks with Simon while you're doing your fuckin' book club thing tonight, so I might not be here when you get back."

"Alright, honey," I get up to start preparing our dinner.

Later that night after my book club, I walk back into a dark house, just like I expected to. When Negan and Simon get together, they usually close whatever bar they go to. I throw my keys down on their spot and turn the light on. I let out a little scream when I see Negan sitting on the couch in the living room.

"What are you doing sitting in the dark?! You scared the shit out of me!" I call out as I move closer to him. I look down at him and see that his white shirt is splattered with blood and that his hands are all scraped and swollen. "Oh my goodness! What happened?!" I sit down beside him and take his hands in mine. "Are you hurt?" I look all over him for whatever wound caused the blood on his shirt.

"It's not my blood," he answers apathetically.

"Wh-what?" I look from his hands to his eyes. He's staring off into space. "Whose-"

"Drew Hanson, the shop teacher." He finally looks at me with cold eyes. "I almost beat him to death."

"What?! Why?! Is he okay?"

"He was breathing when I fuckin' left."

"Oh my goodness. Why?! Why did you hurt him?!"

Negan takes in a deep breath and exhales. "He was talking about the girls... the students. How he wanted them. How he took fucking pictures of them in the halls when they weren't looking. He showed them to me..." He brings his fist down onto the arm of the couch. "He thought that I was fucking Chuck. That I would lay my hands on her. And he wanted me to give him pictures of her. He thought I would take fucking naked pictures and... videos of her."

I can see Negan's rage building as he speaks. "That's... I can't believe-" I really don't know what to say.

"He wanted me to let him fuck her. Set it all up at some motel. He wanted me to get her to fuck him. How the fuck..." He looks into my eyes and I see that they are filling with tears. "I just fuckin' lost it. I dragged him out into the alley and beat the shit out of him. I couldn't let him..." He shakes his head. "No one's gonna hurt that girl."

"He's- I can't believe that's the kind of person he is. We should call the cops and turn him in."

"We can't. I'll get fuckin' arrested for assault. I'll lose my job."

I shake my head and wipe my eyes of my own tears. "He can't get away with that."

"He won't. He's not coming back to work. I told him if I see him again around any of those girls, I'll kill him."

It is a gorgeous early summer day and I am changing over my closet from my spring wardrobe to my summer one while Negan is working on his newest project for his summer break. He is rebuilding this old car he bought right after school was dismissed for the year. His dream car, a black 1967 Chevy Impala.

I finish up with my clothes and come back downstairs to grab a drink of water when Negan walks through the door, Chuck following behind him with a homemade pie in her hands. She is dressed in a T-shirt with some sort of cartoon character and a pair of long jean shorts. Even though she is now officially an adult that has just graduated high school, her outfit makes her look slightly younger than she is. I had the opposite problem at that age. My mother always nudged me to "dress classy" after I turned sixteen. No more jeans or sneakers for me. And because of that, people always thought I was in my early twenties even though I was still in high school.

"Oooh! What's this?" I ask excitedly as I look down at the dessert in her hands.

"Strawberry rhubarb pie. My mom made it and wanted me to drop it off for you guys," Chuck answers.

Negan takes the pie from her hands and sets it on the counter, going to the refrigerator to grab a beer for himself. "You want one?" he asks the teenager, obviously joking.

"Yeah, of course," she jokes back easily.

He chuckles at her response. "Fuck off."

"How is your physical therapy going?" I ask Chuck. Her mother had told me that she has to attend therapy to get strength up in her leg after getting her cast off a few weeks ago.

"Actually, I only have a few more sessions at the office, but I still have to do exercises at home," she answers.

"That's good. I'm glad to see you on both your feet." I fluff up some of her wild hair. My hair used to be thick like hers and I remember the ways I used to style it. I actually found myself missing it. My hair didn't grow back as thick as it once was after my cancer treatments. "Your hair is so beautiful."

She giggles and her face turns red. "Uh, thank you. I wish my hair was silky and straight like yours."

My hair used to be naturally wavy like Chuck's. But over the years, it lost some of that texture, so I flat iron it straight. "Oh, no," I tell her. "Don't you ever change your hair. you'll miss it when it's gone."

I continue to play with her hair and thoughts of how her mother must've struggled with the thick locks when the girl was a child dance through my head. I think of how, if she were my daughter, I would've put her in pigtails. Or French braids. How I'd dress her in cute dresses and patent leather shoes. Or little overalls and sneakers-

"Lucille." My husband's voice brings me out of my daydream. "You're fuckin' embarrassing the shit outta her."

I drop my hands from her head. "I'm sorry, honey. I'm just thinking about how proud your mother must be to have such a beautiful daughter."

She gives me a soft smile. I think she picked up on my sadness. I assume that Negan never discussed with her the fact that I can't have children. Because that would be a strange topic of discussion for a teenager. But the girl is smart and intuitive, so I'm sure she would put it together.

"Thank you," she says and I give her a hug. "I should get going."

Negan and I walk her to the door and watch as she walks down our sidewalk. She turns back to wave, but trips on her own feet and goes down hard on her knee. Negan pushes past me and quickly runs to her, with me following.

Negan turns her over and looks her up and down. "You alright, baby girl?" He places his hand gently on the back of her knee, which has started to bleed from the large scrape on it, and lifts her leg.

I point to the injury and say, "We should clean that out."

Negan nods. "Put your arms around my neck," he tells Chuck.

She looks at him confused. "What?"

"I'm gonna carry you."

"No. I can walk." Chuck tries to get up but as soon as she lets out a hiss of pain, Negan scoops her up in a bridal hold. "Coach!" she squeaks as she holds onto him tightly.

"It's okay, honey," I start. "We'll get you all fixed up." I open the door for Negan and run to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. When I come back into the living room, Chuck is sitting on the couch with Negan kneeling in front of her.

"You trying to break your fuckin' ankle again?" He holds her left foot in his hands as he flexed her ankle.

"My ankles are fine, Coach. It's just my right knee."

Negan gently flexes her leg. "How much does it hurt?"

"Not a lot. It's just the scrape."

"Here." I set the first aid kit on the couch beside Chuck and open it up, kneeling down in front of her beside my husband.

Negan looks up to me and says, "Thanks, babe."

I start to dab an alcohol pad on Chuck's knee and she lets out a little growl.

Negan looks up to Chuck's wincing face and grabs ahold of her hand. "Just squeeze my hand when it hurts, baby girl."

I finish cleaning Chuck's scraped knee and cover it with a bandage. "All done!" I pat her uninjured knee and stand up. "I'll get you some Tylenol so your knee doesn't get too stiff."

"Okay. Thank you," Chuck responds politely.

I go to the medicine cabinet and grab the pills, along with a glass of water and make my way back to the living room. Negan is still knelt down in front of her, prodding her knee searching for more injuries.

"I'm fine, Coach!" Chuck hisses with a frustrated tone.

"Your mom's gonna fuckin' kill me if you break your damn leg under my watch."

I hand Chuck the water and pills. "Here you go, sweetheart." I sit down in the armchair beside the couch.

Negan gets up and takes the seat beside her with his arm propped up on the back of the couch behind her and his legs angled toward her. Almost cradling her like he is afraid something will hurt her further.

"Thanks," she says shyly. "I'm sorry I'm such a klutz."

"How the fuck are you gonna go off to fuckin' college if you can't walk down the goddamn sidewalk? I'm gonna be pissed if I hear that you broke your damn neck walking from one class to another."

"I'm fine, Coach. Stop fussing."

"You gotta be careful, you know. Don't let your guard down and shit."

"With sidewalks? I know! Those vicious things jump right out at you," she jokes.

Negan looks at me with a nervous expression, then looks back to her. "I mean with other things. You're going to college soon and you'll meet a fuckton of new people and not all of them will be fuckin' good. You gotta make sure you watch your back or a scraped knee will be the least of your worries."

"It'll be fine, Coach. Don't worry."

He is worried. I can tell from the way he is looking at her. He's worried about her getting hurt and him not being there to help her.

Negan looks to me and holds his hand out to me. "Back me up here. People go fuckin' nuts in college. And guys can be... fuckin' dickbags. Right?"

Both Chuck and Negan look at me, waiting for me to say something. I know what he is getting at and what he wants me to tell her, but I don't want to turn the girl off of trying new things and living her life. "Negan's... sort of right. You need to be vigilant, but don't be scared to experience life. I'm sure you'll have so many great adventures in college. And you're smart. You'll do just fine."

I believe this. I believe that she will go on to do great things. And I have always liked her. She's smart and sweet. And as I watch her joke around with Negan, I can see how funny and charming she is.

And right now, she scares me more than anything else in my whole life.

Because this. Today. This is the longest I have been around Negan and Chuck together. Alone. At least they act like they are alone because I seem to be tossed by the wayside. They laugh and smile at each other, share inside jokes like old friends. Old friends with common interests to chat about. Old friends that complement each other perfectly. One quiet, one loud. One hard, one soft. One innocent, one experienced.

This girl. This girl that he's been drawn to since he first saw her. This girl that makes him smile and laugh like I never could. This girl that he wants to protect so much. The girl that he's looking at right now...

And that way that he's looking at her... It's not like the way he looks at women he wants to have a fling with. No, he doesn't see her that way. Yet.

But that look in his eyes.

It's the same way he looks at me. It's the way he's always looked at me.

And in that look, I see the future. Not mine, but his.

I see his future without me.