For You I Was a Flame

by selfluminousbody

There comes a time in everyone's lives when things just suck. A year before the dead start eating people, Pippa reluctantly moves back to her old hometown, after falling on hard times. There she encounters an old flame and ignites a new spark. Rated M for explicit language and adult situations. Dwight/OC, Negan/OC.

37. Chapter 37

Content warning: mentions of miscarriage and infertility.

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"Stop it!" I smack Negan's hand. "God, you're such a pig."

"You made way more than what was fuckin' necessary."

"Well, this is a bake sale, not a soup kitchen, so fork over the nine dollars worth of baked good you've eaten."

"I can't believe we're fuckin' doing this in the first goddamn place," Negan chews, "The girls should be practicing, not selling cookies. This isn't the fucking girl scouts."

"Hey, there's more than just cookies being sold and this is to raise money for the players whose families can't afford uniforms. It's better than sending a bunch of teenage girls to go door to door selling candy bars to strangers."

"Okay, I'll give you that," Negan sighs, "Why don't you sit here and I'll go have 'em run drills?"

"It's not a scheduled practice day."

"And your point is?"

"My point is stop bitching and be more supportive of your players."

"I am supportive," Negan rolls his eyes, "How the fuck do you think they got uniforms every other year?"

I look over at him. "...You?"

"There's only like four players every year who can't afford the uniforms, it's not that big of a deal."

"The uniforms are like seventy bucks a pop."

"So?"

"You make a teacher's salary," I chuckle, "Where do you get off shelling out that kind of money?"

"Well, the school only will compt uniforms to football players, because it's our biggest sport, but all my ball players have to have uniforms in order to play."

I smile. "So, you buy their uniforms?"

"Lucille doesn't mind, it's the only thing she likes about me."

"Well, now I get it," I laugh, "That's very sweet of you."

"It's not sweet, the players have to have uniforms. It's a necessity."

"Throw it, Negan!" Jolyon calls a few yards out in the field.

"Alright!" Negan picks up the baseball in his glove and throw it towards him.

"God, don't throw it so hard!" I complain. "You're gonna end nailing him."

"Calm your tits, I am not," Negan chuckles, "I'm just giving him something to chase to tire him out for you. You're welcome."

Jolyon holds up his glove with the baseball, which he just put in there after finally catching up to it. "Look, Mom, I got it!"

"Good job, Jol!" I smile, glancing at Negan. "You still owe me nine dollars."

"All I have is twenty."

"We accept twenties."

"What you're not gonna fucking give me change?"

"We haven't made a sale yet, I don't have change."

"So, I'm paying twenty bucks for nine dollars worth of pastries?"

"Consider the rest to be a generous donation."

Negan laughs, reaching into his back pocket. "You fuckin' chiseler."

"I throwed it back!" Jolyon yells.

"Hold your horses!" Negan replies, handing me his twenty. "I'm getting robbed by your mom."

"It was my pleasure."

Negan walks a few feet to grab the ball that Jolyon had to keep throwing until that point, because the ball kept falling short. "Alright, you ready?"

"Yes!"

He tosses the ball, noticeably softer. "You see how perfect my form was?"

I arch my brow. "Am I supposed to be aroused?"

"Should be."

"Hm," I look down at my phone on the table, but choose to ignore it, "Well, keep trying, sport."

"Who are you ignoring?"

"What?"

"You didn't pick up your phone."

I briefly glance at the softball players, both JV and varsity in the distance that are either approaching us, or holding up signs to draw people in. "Just my mom."

"What'd mom do to piss you off?"

"She told someone about my problem and then lied about it."

"Ah, and so your giving her the silent treatment?"

"Mind your own business."

"Can't help it," He chuckles, "I like poking my nose where it doesn't belong."

"Yeah, the same goes for your dick."

"That type of accurate language is not acceptable on this campus, Assistant Coach Barnes." He retorts.

"Assistant Coach?" I smirk at him. "Baby, I'm the head coach."

"Bullshit."

I cackle. "No, Avery told me that since he already promised the coaching position to me, but then I ended up having to share with you, because you threw a fit; that I could be the head coach."

"Avery never said shit to me about it."

"I told him I'd tell you. Plus, didn't you read what was in those packets we gave the girls to fill out at home?"

He scoff. "Uh, yeah I fucking did. Aside from all the legal and medical forms, I write out all the code of conduct and sportsmanship shit."

"Well, the other day when you told me to put the packets together, like I was your goddamn secretary, I took the liberty of transferring the title of head coach over to me."

Negan squints at me. "You lying minx."

I get into my purse and pull out the main introduction sheet. "Read it and weep, motherfucker."

Negan snatches the paper from me, scanning his eyes down to the bottom. His furrow deepens. "You sneaky little fucker!"

The girls that volunteered to run the bake sale stop in their tracks.

I stifle a laugh. "Coach, that type of accurate language is unacceptable on this campus. Do right to watch your mouth, please."

His eyes flicker up at mine.

I grin wide. "I moved your name, your new title, and signature under mine."

"Throw it, Negan!" Jolyon shouts.

"Yeah, Negan, throw it." I snicker, before turning to the girls. "Alright, so I assume you all know how to make change?"

"Yes." They all say in near unison.

"Cool, so we've got about two hours and it's hot, so make sure you put on the sunscreen on the table."

When the girls sit down at the table, I shift back to Negan and Jolyon. Negan's waiting for Jol to throw the ball back close enough to get it.

"Your kid throws with his left hand."

"So?"

"He's right-handed," Negan scoffs, "I've seen him hold a crayon. Poorly, I might add, but I've seen it."

"He's four, he's learning," I chuckle, "And his glove's on his right hand."

"Wow, and you're head coach? You throw with your dominant hand and catch with your other hand."

"I know, but he doesn't. Go teach him," I smirk, "And that's an order, Assistant Coach."

"You know, if I wasn't so turned on by your underhandedness, I'd tell you to fuck off."

"Oh, but then who would visit you at lunch tomorrow?"

"It wouldn't be the first time I rubbed one out in my office." Negan walks forward, signaling for Jolyon to meet him halfway.

"That's gross." I sigh, checking behind me to make sure the girls aren't within earshot.

I then watch Negan put Jolyon's glove on his left hand, giving him a few inaudible pointers. I smile as he walks back my way. "Maybe I am a little aroused."

"Well, mop it up, baby, because we're here for another two hours and Lu wants me home right after."

"How come?"

"Because she invited our neighbors over for dinner."

"You're having a party on a Tuesday?"

"No, dipshit, it's just one couple and their son," He throws the ball, "Lucille and Joan graduated together."

"Oh, that's nice."

"Yeah, but I always get reamed by Lucille, for being to 'hard' on the kid."

"Does he play a sport here?"

"No," Negan shakes his head, "He goes to some punk ass private school."

"Then...what are you doing to get yelled at?"

"We've got a ping pong table in the garage and we play every time he comes over."

"And there's no such thing as being too competitive at something as silly as ping pong?" I grin.

"Hey, I don't let your four year old beat me, why the fuck am I gonna go easy on a sixteen year old?" Negan pitches. "The kid can't take a little fun hassling."

I shake my head, laughing. "You're such a dick."

"Coach Barnes, I think your phone's ringing?"

I look over my shoulder. "Okay, thank you."

"You gonna go answer it?"

"No, it's just my mom again."

"Jesus, Pip, are you really gonna leave her in the woods over something stupid?"

"It wasn't stupid," I retort, "I asked her not to tell anyone and she did. And that person was my ex-boyfriend's mother and she told him."

Negan glances over. "So?"

I fold my arms. "I didn't want him to know."

"Why the fuck does it matter if he knows or not?"

"Because it's embarrassing, that's why."

"Don't let it get to you. You've got nothing to be ashamed of, you're getting clean."

"Well, I bet you wouldn't have such a cavalier attitude if it was your business being gossiped about."

"Nah, I don't give a shit."

"Is that so?"

"It is."

I scoff. "Well, then I guess it won't bother you to know that Lourdes told me and Simon about you getting caught by Lucille, cheating with Lourdes."

Negan turns his head. "What?"

"She told me that Lucille left you for a few days and you begged her to come back."

He looks down. "Lourdes shouldn't have fuckin' called me at home."

"Oh, so it's Lourdes' fault you got caught?" I raise my brow in disbelief. "Not the fact that you were sneaking around behind your wife's back with a woman who you lied to me about when you said she was nothing."

"She is nothing."

"You told her you loved her."

Negan chuckles, devilishly. "I said a lot of things to Lourdes, that I didn't fuckin' mean." He looks me over. "She's not the only one."

I scoff at him. "Wow, okay." I put my hands on my hips. "Are you talking about me, or Lucille?"

"Fuck you."

"Says the guy who doesn't give a shit what people know about him."

"You know, what crawled up your ass?" He snaps. "Lour told you what I said to get in her bed and now you're fuckin' jealous I didn't say it to you?"

"Oh, please, I'm not jealous!" I snort. "Why the fuck would I want to be swept under by your lies like her, or your wife?"

"Why don't you go home, if you're gonna be a bitch at the bake sale?"

"Why don't you go home to your wife and help her with dinner?"

"What kind of fuckin' comeback is that?" Negan laughs at me. "At least, I've got someone to go home to."

"Throw it, Negan!" Jolyon calls, impatiently.

I look out at him. "Yeah, well, maybe I don't have a husband or boyfriend, but at least I have kid to go home to, instead of having to borrow everyone else's, or throw myself into after school athletics."

Negan halts just before he throws the ball. His furrowed eyes look at me, gutted. Like I just ripped him open at the belly and he's still trying to register what happened as the guts fall out.

Staring back at him, I shortly realize that I've fucked up. I lose my angry expression slowly, almost embarrassed at the ass I think I just made of myself.

"Throw the ball!" Jolyon hollers.

Negan blinks back to him and thinks for a minute, sucker-punched. He hurls the ball Jolyon's way and then turns around and walks.

"Negan, wait."

"Have fun with your stupid fucking bake sale." He stalks off towards the parking lot.

"I'm sorry!"

"Blow it out your ass!"

The girls at the booth, as well as the student customers look over at his explosive explicative. They watch him go, before looking back to me.

I half-heartedly smile, because that's all I can do.

"Hey, where's he going?" Jolyon asks, running up with the ball.

"He had to go home, baby."

"Aw!" Jolyon whimpers. "It's gonna be no fun without him!"

I muss his curls, before hugging him to the side of me, as my eyes stay fixed on Negan growing farther and farther away.

...

The monitor beeps at the rate of my heart. It's annoying and it makes it hard to truly sleep, which is all I want right now. I feel so drained of everything and it all hurts. My body aches, there's a dull pounding in my head, and to breathe is to be in pain. The morphine drip helps a little, but it can't take away the anguish inside me. When I finally open my lead eyelids from momentarily resting them, the room is dark and cold, because of the hour and the stupid fucking A/C.

I lick my chapped lips, running my tongue over the split on my upper lip.

"Want some water?"

"Yes, please." I rasp, already tearing up.

"Okay," D gets up from the chair and pours me some water from the plastic hospital pitcher into the cup, "Here."

Despite feeling demolished, I gulp down the water with might. "Thanks."

I bleakly glance at all the flowers, teddy bears, and get well soon balloons from all my friends, classmates, and family. My mom brought me all my favorite foods to get me to eat, but I can't. I've tried, but everything I bring something up to my mouth...I just can't.

"Where's my mom and dad?"

"They're out in the hall with the doctor," Dwight tells me, "Want me to go get 'em?"

I nod my head. "Yes." I barely croak.

He walks over to the door and opens it, peering his head out. "Pippa's awake."

"Okay, we'll be in a second." My mom lets him know.

"Okay." He closes the door. "Your mom said-"

"I heard her," I wipe the tear that slithered down to my ear, "Are they mad at me?"

"What? No, why would they be mad at you?"

"Because I didn't tell them," More tears blur my vision, until I blink them out, "Because they had to find out like this."

D sits down in the chair by my bed. "They're not mad, Pip."

I inspect his wrecked face. The cuts and scrapes, especially the cut across the bridge of his bruised nose and the cut above his right eye that's got four stitches. "How's your face?"

"I'm fine, don't worry about me," He itches above the sutures, "Worry about yourself."

"How can I not worry about you?"

"Because I walked away with nothing," D scoffs, "You've got a concussion, a two fractured ribs, and you..." He trails off and closes his mouth.

I look away from him, silently sobbing. "Who knows? At school, I mean?"

"Nobody," He answers, "They just know about the accident."

I nod. "Do you...do you still love me?"

"What?" Dwight stares at me, incredulous. "Of course, I do. Why would I stop?"

"I...I don't know."

"Well, I love you, Pippa," He puts his hand on mine, "And nothing's gonna change that."

My face scrunches. "You promise?"

"Yes," His grip tightens as his voice cracks, "I promise."

He kisses me lovingly on the lips. I comb my fingers through his blonde hair, smiling as he softly groans as he eases into me once more, before climbing off me. Dwight pulls my sheets up to his waist as he sits up against the headboard.

I roll over the other way to take my medicine since it's time. "I thought this wasn't gonna happen again?"

"It wasn't supposed to," Dwight answers behind me, "I didn't mean for it to happen."

I shake out a pill from the orange tube. "So, then why did you call me at eight-thirty at night and show up at my door?"

"I wanted to give you the knife...and I was out anyway."

I look at the little Swiss army knife over on my dresser. It's mine, from when we were nine and his grandpa took us camping. He had bought us each one and carved our initials into the side when we kept getting them mixed up and argued. D found it at his mom's house and wanted to give it back to me. It was one of the things I gave her to give to him when our relationship ended all those years ago.

"Where were you?"

"What?"

"Where were you, if you weren't home?"

"I don't know. Just out."

I snicker, downing the pill with some water. "Is there another woman?"

"Shut up," He scoffs, "No, I just was getting out of the house for a little while."

"How come?"

"Sherry and I got into again."

"Oh," I close my drawer, "So, you were driving around, until you found an excuse to come over here."

"No, I was going to bring it over anyway."

"At night?"

"I thought you might want to have it," He shrugs, "I've had it in my glove compartment for three weeks. I forgot I had it until now."

"Why would I want an old pocket knife from when I was nine?" I bring my shirt over my head. "It's just a knife, nothing special."

"Then why'd you tell my mom you couldn't keep it when you brought back all that stuff?"

I search for my underwear under the covers. "Because I was a heartbroken teenager."

"Right," Dwight runs his hand through his hair, "Look, I thought you could give it to Jolyon when he's older."

"Well...well, actually that does seem like something he'd like."

"Here." He hands me my underwear.

I take them, irritated. "If you want a booty call, you're gonna have to start paying, or go look somewhere else."

"It's not like that, Pippa."

"Really?" I look at him. "You fight with your wife and you wind up here? The sex 'just happened'?"

"Well, you didn't have to invite me in."

"I made cookies for a bake sale at my work," I grumble, "I made way too much and offered you a few...to take home."

"Well, you could've kicked me out when I kissed you."

I sigh through my nose. "Well, it's never too late."

D gets out of my bed. "Alright, message received."

I tap my finger on my thigh. "Maybe this is why you're having a rough patch."

"What?" He looks over at me.

"You said that you and her were having a rough patch," I shrug, "Maybe if you quit with this, your marriage would be okay."

He huffs. "Thanks for the marriage counseling."

"Well..."

"I haven't seen you in weeks," Dwight zips up his pants, "You're not the only problem."

"Me?" I chuckle bitterly. "Oh, no, you're not gonna label me as one of your marital problems. I'm not taking blame for your choices."

"That's not what I mean and you know it. I meant, that us being on the rocks is more than sneaking around with you."

"Your marriage was fine before then," I scratch my nose "I remember that cute little anniversary party."

"Yeah, well..."

"Well, what?"

Dwight glances at me. "I gotta head home."

...

I knock on his office door. "Knock, knock!"

"Fuck off."

I chew the side of my lip, holding a pizza box in one hand. "Open up."

"Fuck. Off." Negan re-clarifies.

"I come bearing gifts."

He huffs inside. "Your pussy's more of a fuckin' curse."

I try not to snicker. "That's not what I meant, but just so you know, I wear that with honor." I wait for some students to pass. "I was talking about something better."

"Well, then, there are some things you can't fuckin' blow and make better."

"...I'm not gonna suck your dick," I roll my eyes, "I'm talking about pizza."

"I don't want it, so fucking beat it."

"Half of it's combination," I attempt to entice, "With stuffed crust."

"I fucking hate stuffed crust."

I knit my brows. Fucking hates stuffed crust? "Well, I'll eat your crusts then, you freak of nature."

"Pippa, I said fuck off," He groans, "Why don't you fuckin' go share it with her bosom buddy, Lourdes?"

"She went home for lunch."

"Well, then I guess you're shit out of luck."

"...So, you're not gonna open the door?" I reach into my pocket.

"Now you're fuckin' getting it."

"Not even to accept my offer of peace?"

"Nope, so go to hell."

"Uh-huh." I slide the key into the lock and turn it until I hear the click.

"What the fuck?"

I open the door. "This pizza's hot as balls," I drop it down on his desk, "It was starting to burn my arm."

"How the fuck did you get a key to my office?" He stares at me with an angry furrow.

"You left your clipboard at the booth," I open the pizza box, "There's a key taped on the inside of the part that opens."

"So, you fuckin' stole it?"

"I needed it to get into your office to return your clipboard to you," I grab a slice of plain cheese and one of those parmesan packets, "I had Jol with me, so I forgot to put the key back."

He bitterly looks me over. "What the fuck are you doing?"

I sit down in the chair on the other side of his desk. "Giving you a taste of your own medicine," I rip open the packet; "I figured I'd take a page from your book and just waltz in, uninvited."

"Yeah, well, I'm not looking to joke around with you, asshole, so don't let the door hit you in the ass."

I look at him. "I would've thought you'd want the door to hit me."

Negan exhales, jaded as fuck. "What do you really want, Pippa?"

"Practice is today."

"And?"

I bite into my pizza. "Are you coming?"

"Can't handle it yourself, Head Coach?"

I smirk. "That's kind of hot, you calling me 'Head Coach'. Sounds like the beginning to some pretty steamy foreplay."

"So, that's it, huh?" Negan scoffs. "Absence has your pussy throbbing?"

I put my hand over my mouth as I swallow. "I think I just threw up in my mouth a little."

He tilts his head back, exhausted. "Come on, Pip, why are you fuckin' with me? Just get the fuck out."

I look down. "I...I just wanted to come by to say that I'm sorry about the other day."

"Right."

"I am sorry," I insist, glancing up to meet his scowling eyes, "I crossed a line and I'm sorry."

Negan observes me for a minute, before reaching into the pizza box. "Yeah, well, I take your apology and fuckin' shove it up your perfectly round ass."

I knit my brows. "What?"

"I don't want your fucking apology, Pippa."

"But, I-"

"Shut the fuck up," Negan stares daggers at me, "You think I don't know what's up? That I don't have you fuckin' pegged by now?"

"...What are you talking about?"

"You and that old flame of yours fuckin' fucked again, did you?"

I stare, mouth slightly open.

He grins as he scoffs. "That's what I fuckin' thought."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" He chuckles. "You're a bitch whenever you've been with him and he pulled you through a loop. So, what? He came on over got his rocks off and then left you with a bad taste in your mouth?"

I grimace. "I just came to apologize."

"That wasn't Jolyon who I heard flushing the toilet last Friday night, was it?"

"...No."

"Yeah," Negan leans back, putting his feet up on his desk, "Wish I could say that I'm sorry you got used, but I'm fuckin' not. No tear on my cheek, if you don't learn a fucking lesson."

"It was different."

"I'm sure."

I take a deep breath. "You know what? I didn't come here because I wanted you to fuck me. I came here because I'm sorry for what I said." I stand up. "Look, I can't do anymore than that. The rest is on you, so hold onto the anger, if you want." I start to walk towards the door with my pizza crust in hand. "You can have the fucking pizza."

He scoffs. "Thanks."

I stop just before I open the door. Another deep breath rises in my chest.

"You push down on the handle and pull the door towards you." He rudely instructs.

I bite my lip, knowing that if I leave now, I won't be satisfied with myself.

"Any fuckin' time would be great."

"Lucille can't have kids, can she?"

Silence.

I count to three in my head, before I turn around. Our eyes lock instantly. Negan's still scowling, like he had the other day, but he's also quiet...like the other day. Just before the storm.

I wring my hands. "I kept wondering why you and her didn't have any kids, when you both apparently like kids. I mean, you and her are so good with Jolyon and..." I shrug, "It wasn't until Tuesday that I put two and two together."

Negan glances down and turns his head forward.

"Or...is it you?"

He huffs under his breath. "If I was shooting blanks, why the fuck would I use condoms?"

"Safe sex."

He drops his pizza slice down on top of the box. "Point taken."

I step forward. "So...she can't then?"

"Pippa," Negan pinches the bridge of his nose, "Just drop it."

"O-okay," I nod my head, "I'm sorry, I just...I'll go, I'll leave you alone."

He sighs, frustrated. "She had preterm labor."

I refrain from leaving, gazing at him as I wait for him to go on.

Negan appears to be focusing on the large window of his office, despite the blinds being drawn. "Her body would go into labor too early in the pregnancy."

"Oh."

He bites his lip. "Her doctor told her that if she could make it to fifteen weeks, she could put a cervical cerclage in that would make sure she'd be able to carry until she was close enough to her due date, but she never made it that far." Negan swallows. "Every time she'd get pregnant, she was so hopeful and confident that this time was gonna be it; she was gonna make it fifteen weeks and then she'd get the cerclage and everything would be just dandy. But come twelve, thirteen weeks, she'd wake up in pain and we'd have to go to the hospital."

I hold in tears as I just listen.

"After so many miscarriages, she just couldn't do it anymore," As he swallows again, I see the expression that flashes on his face, "It, uh, took a toll on her, physically and emotionally, so we just decided to throw in the towel."

"What about adoption?"

"We talked about it, but we both buried ourselves in our work and it just never happened."

I sit down in the chair. "I'm sorry."

"I don't need your pity, Pippa."

"I'm not pitying you," I roll my misty eyes, "I just feel like such an asshole."

"You are an asshole."

I chuckle. "I know."

A light, small smile forms on his face as he looks at me. "Well, I guess, if you're aware of that, I should accept your apology, right?"

"If you want to."

He inhales and exhales. "Alright, fine, all's forgiven."

I smile. "I really am sorry."

"Stop apologizing, I just fuckin' said I forgave you."

I nod my head. "Who else knows?"

"Her parents, obviously," Negan clears his throat, "Aside from them? A few people she worked with when she was at the schools."

"You never told Lourdes?"

"Why would I?"

I shrug. "I don't know, I know Lourdes and you were closer than you admit, I just thought maybe-"

"Lucille isn't pillow talk, Pip, I don't fuckin' make it a habit to talk about her in the throes of pussy. She's not just some woman I hooked up with, she's my wife."

"Yeah..." I open the pizza box for another slice. "Well, let's put it all under the bridge and move on, eh?"

"Deal," Negan agrees, "So, what's eating you?"

"Heartburn," I chew with smile, "All those years of hard livin' are finally catching up to me."

"Heartburn's the least of your problems," He chuckles, "What's really eatin' you?"

I look at him. "Nothing."

"Bullshit, Pippa, you and I are not the kind of people who do a little good without wantin' some type of gratification."

I see that he's perfectly astute. Did I really come here for an ulterior reason? I didn't think I was.

"What's wrong? You relapse?"

"No, I didn't relapse."

"Huh, I thought maybe you're bitchiness the other day had to do with a little more than that guy."

I glance down at my pizza. "You were right, he was just using me."

"He came over again last night, didn't he?"

"Yeah," I take another bite, "He got into an argument with his wife and he..." I shrug my shoulders again. "I can't believe I let that happen; but I told myself it was different, because of the circumstances."

"What circumstances?" Negan scoffs, not knowing. "Did he lie and say he'd leave his wife for you?"

"No, he'd never do that," I scowl at him, "But you can shut the fuck up either way."

He snickers through his nose. "What then?"

"...It was an anniversary."

"Ah, of when you broke up?" He lightly teases.

"No," I huff, knitting my brows at him, "Something worse."

"What?"

"Negan." I sigh, anxiously soothing my arm.

His eyes traipse over me. "You gettin' that itch?"

"Yes."

"There's a six o'clock meeting in Barton tonight."

My eyes blink up to meet his.

...

The building is made of brick like most older buildings. It's still light out, but the weather's cooled down some. People from all walks of life straggle through the two glass doors.

"Keep that fuckin' cigarette out the window."

"I am." I take another drag as I stare at the building.

"It's five-fifty," Negan looks at the clock on the radio, "You gonna go in?"

"Yes, just give me a minute."

"If you fuckin' wait any longer, you're not gonna have a seat."

I take a deep breath, "Alright, alright." I open the car door. I get one last drag in, before I drop the cigarette and step on it. I puzzle my brows when I hear a car door slam behind me. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going in with you." Negan sticks his phone in a back pocket.

"You don't have to do that," I tell him, "I'm a big girl."

"Actually, I think I do," He smirks, "You think I was fuckin' born yesterday?"

"Excuse me?"

"How the fuck do I know you'll actually fuckin' go if I let you go on your own?"

"Uh, because I said I was going to."

"You mean your word?"

"Yes."

"Well, no offense, but your word doesn't mean jack shit," He laughs, "For all I know, you'd go inside and spend the hour in the bathroom, or in a pottery class."

"I could make you nice bowl for your balls for when the in-laws come."

Negan flips me the bird, then uses it to point towards the building . "Get your ass inside."

I hold the strap of my purse. "I don't know about this."

"It'll be fine."

"I don't belong here, Negan."

"Yeah, you do," He puts a hand on my shoulder, "Come on."

I sigh. "Alright."

We go in together and turn down the right hall towards the door that has the number that Negan looked up. When I see all the people inside, sitting someplace between the two layers of the circles, I hesitate. Luckily, this asshole just opens the door for me.

We go in and I shyly smile at anyone who makes eye contact with me, as I find a place to sit. I have a seat in a chair on the inner circle, because Negan sat in the last one on the outer circle, so I wouldn't have the chance. His chair's directly behind mine and it makes me uneasy. I sort of thought he'd sit beside me. I fiddle with the strap of my purse.

A man clears his throat. "Alright, let's get started," He says, apparently the conductor of this meeting, "Who'd like to start us off?"

Someone's hand raises, a woman who likes a soccer mom in her yellow knit sweater. "Hi, my name is Heather and I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi, Heather." The rest of the room says, Negan included.

The meeting goes on like this, people raising their hands, introducing themselves, and then sharing. Some of them have been sober a long time, some only a few days. A few people confide that they've fallen off the wagon. I sit in silence as I listen to all the heart-wrenching stories of lives ruined, or saved. Injuries sustained from hitting rock bottom, or salvation found after hitting rock bottom and falling through. I'm relieved when some of the shares are mild.

Not all who share cry, some only get choked up, or are able to keep it together. Not even the person in charge says anything, except to thank an alcoholic for sharing and asking who'd like to go next. I guess that's maybe the point; not judging, just listening. God, Negan must be having a hell of time with some of these, being the know-it-all that he is.

I can't help but to glance up to at the clock every couple minutes. It's the longest hour I've ever had to sit through. And the worst part about it is that I...relate to these people. There's been far too many times where the inside of me recoils as I think; "Oh, god, I'm an alcoholic." Far too many stories and experiences that are near identical to mine.

The guy in charge offers this crying biker a tissue from a box. "Thank you for sharing," He tells the man, "Alright, we've got time for one more."

I wait to see who'll raise their hand, but no one does. Suddenly, my chair moves forward, causing an abrupt screech. I look over my shoulder and glare at Negan with his arms crossed. "What are you doing?" I mouth.

"Ma'am?"

I turn my head forward.

"Would you like to share?"

"Oh, no, I'm okay."

"Don't be shy," Negan says casually, as if he's just another anonymous drunk in this meeting, "You're in a safe place."

I glance behind me again, giving him a 'fuck you' kind of look. When I shift back around, the eyes are still on me.

"You don't have to share, if you aren't ready." The man tells me.

I take a deep breath, running my sweaty hands on my jeans. "H-hi, my name is Pippa and I'm...an alcoholic." That goes down harder than I imagined.

"Hi, Pippa."

I blandly smile, wringing my fingers. "Um, I've been sober for almost a month now. I just found out I have early signs of cirrhosis and I'm only thirty-one. I'll be thirty-two in May, so...I guess I've made some really bad choices in my life that got me here." I inhale choppily. "I've been drinking since I was eighteen, so about thirteen years."

I gaze off to some unknown point in the room as everything starts to rise up like bile. "I started drinking when I was eighteen, after I went off to Texas for college. Everyone was getting drunk at parties to have fun and I was getting drunk to forget. I kept chasing the bottle thinking one day I'd catch up, but I guess that's all an illusion."

I sniff. "You see, I was with this guy I had known since I was in kindergarten, "I chuckle, "We were inseparable as kids; he was my best friend. We started dating in high school and he was the first person I fell in love with. Used to be the only guy I ever thought I would love. "

The man offers a tissue. "Thank you," I accept with a smile, "Anyway, we thought we'd be together in the happily ever after, but it didn't turn out that way." I dry my eyes. "Our senior year of high school, we went to the prom together. It was at this hotel that offered discounted rooms for the students who stayed there. We both told our parents that we were staying in room with friends, but then we snuck to our own room to be together. It was the first time we had ever had sex and we were so nervous and awkward, it was kind of sweet. The next morning, I remember thinking he was the only one for me. That there was no one else."

I ball the tissue in my hand. "I found out I was pregnant about a month later. I passed him a note in class and then after school, he drove me to the pharmacy for a test. Pink plus," I chuckle again with teary eyes, "Yep, I'm the girl that got pregnant on prom night. I remember thinking that I was doomed. That my parents would kill me and bury me in the woods behind our house. I thought he'd leave me and I would have to work the rest of my life at this diner I worked at, because what college would allow a baby in a dorm?"

My throat aches, but I manage to go on. "But when the test came up positive in the bathroom of his mom's house, he...he," I shut my eyes as tears roll down my face and my voice begins to tremble, "He said he loved me, and that he wanted to marry me, and that everything would be okay. We'd move to Austin like we planned and he'd enlist in the Army and we'd live on a base and I could go to school and...nothing had to change, the future we planned out by the river since we were sixteen, didn't have to disappear, it only had to adjust a little for the baby."

I glance at the crumpled tissue in my hand, dripping a tear into my hand. "I was seven weeks and two days pregnant when he finally convinced me that we had to tell our parents. We decided to tell his mom first since she would be home from work sooner than mine. And, uh," I lick the salty pool at the corner of my mouth, "We were driving to his house right after school, when a SUV ran their stop sign and t-boned us off the road. D's truck rolled down a hill until a tree stopped us at the bottom. He had some bad facial injures, some nasty bruises, but he was able to crawl out of the truck. The guy that hit us took off and so luckily there were some houses not far that called 9-1-1."

"When I came to, I was groggy and my seatbelt wouldn't come undone," My inhale through my nose, "And I just heard him calling for help and I was crying, because I couldn't get out and I felt a really bad pain." I lip quivers a little as I struggle to hold it together. "I told the paramedic that I was pregnant and something was wrong..."

I close my eyes again at the dark memory of me strapped down to that table with a hard yellow brace around my neck. How calm and urgent the paramedic's voice was when he told his partner I was bleeding.

"I miscarried in the hospital before my parents arrived," I open my eyes, "I had two fractured ribs, a concussion, and the doctors told my parents that my body suffered a lot of trauma and I lost the baby because of it."

I sniff. "My boyfriend and I tried to stay together after that, but it was too painful. We were young and ill equipped to handle that sort of tragedy. We called it quits before graduation. I went to college and he got married. And I drank myself to liver damage and have never had a decent relationship with another man since."

Tears form back up like the sons of bitches they are. "I have a four year old son with a man who I drunkenly slept with after knowing him for four hours and...I bullied him into letting me have sole custody, because I can be really sharp and caustic when I'm drunk and he's an oddball pushover. And I've lied and told people that he gave up his parental rights, because he couldn't handle fatherhood, but the truth is, I'm just ashamed of the awful thing I did." I can't stop chuckling, "But not enough to make it right."

The group looks at me, but I don't get the sense that I'm been horribly judged.

"I wish I could say that I feel like a good person, but I can't. I heard that alcohol lowers your inhibitions and, Jesus, did I just run when the gates were down. I've hurt people with my words and my actions, I've spent the day in bed with a hangover while my son played in the living room, I've drug him out in the cold in the middle of the night for a drink..." I sob a little abruptly, "I've been having an affair with my ex-boyfriend and my co-worker, who's also married and...I've used them just as much as they've used me."

I have a deep, cathartic breath. "But, I'm ready to stay clean and do better, because I deserve to be happy and my son deserves to be happy and if I don't, he could grow up without me, or at least not have as long with me." I look at the clock that read five past six. "That's all I've got, thank you."

The group golf claps and the leader offers me another tissue. He thanks me for sharing and then concludes the meeting. Some of the members stay for coffee, cookies, and a few minutes of talking. I just pick up my purse and leave the room in the recreation center.

I walk out to Negan's car and I know he's not right behind me, but maybe a few paces back. His car's locked, so I light up a cigarette beside it as I wait. He emerges from the building shortly after my first drag. He doesn't look at me until he's close.

"You didn't grab some coffee for the road?" I exhale.

"No," Negan fishes his keys from his pocket; "You wanna grab something to eat, before I take you home?"

"Sure."

He nods, inspecting his keys. "Okay."

...

The waitress brings over our water and coffee. "Here you go."

"Thanks."

"No problem, Pip." She smiles.

I smile back, until she leaves and I have to look at Negan across from me. "You're quiet."

"Yeah..."

"Are you mad, or...disgusted?"

"Why would I be either?"

I shrug. "Because of what I said back at the meeting."

Negan looks up from his coffee. "You said Jol's dad gave up his parental rights. That he was a deadbeat."

"No," I shake my head, "I never called him a deadbeat. I said he was flaky, but I didn't say deadbeat."

His tongue pokes his cheek. "Is he a bad father?"

"No, he's not," I answer truthfully, "He's a good person, he's just...awkward. Doesn't really know how to respond to people socially, but he's sweet in his own way. I was the one who said I could handle things on my own and didn't need him. When he wanted to be there for Jolyon, I agreed, but I wasn't gonna build a life with him. We were practical strangers. I made him wait out in the waiting room when Jolyon was born, because I couldn't stand the thought of this weirdo standing in perfect view of my baby cannon. In hindsight, I could've let him stand near me, where he couldn't see, but I don't think he actually minded all that much."

"Why'd you make him agree to sole custody?"

"Because I was selfish and shitty," I sigh, "I didn't want his help, I was too prideful for no reason. He was...not very good with Jolyon at first. It's like Jol was an alien from another planet and he didn't know what do with him. I had to teach him how to hold him properly and how to feed him and change diapers. I didn't trust him to watch Jolyon overnight, or for more than two hours alone, just because I was afraid his brain would go haywire and he'd malfunction." I snicker at the some memory. "Eugene was just a new parent, who already had no social skills, and I was too hard on him."

Negan stares. "Why the hell didn't he fight you?"

"Because Eugene's not like you and I, Negan," I stir the spoon in my cup, "He's not a fighter, he's cowers in the face of confrontation. And God knows the devil doesn't have half the fury that I do. Eugene never stood a chance. I told him that Jolyon was better off with me, because I was more responsible, I knew what I was doing, and that was I better suited than he was to take care of a child. I didn't live in a studio apartment, spending my weekends playing old video games, because I didn't have any friends."

"Damn," Negan scoffs, "That's cold and brazen coming from a drunk."

"Believe it or not, my drinking's toned down compared to what it was like before I had Jolyon," I briefly glance out the window, "I technically wasn't supposed to be driving in the state of Texas."

He chuckles under his breath, before growing serious again. "You never said the reason you were so hooked on that old boyfriend was because you miscarried his kid when you were a kid yourself."

"You didn't tell me about Lucille."

"You didn't fuckin' ask."

"Right, like you would've told me, if I hadn't thrown you off this afternoon."

"Maybe not, but you never asked. I asked about this 'D' asshole dozens of times."

"Well, I...don't talk about it. Like...ever," I rest my cheek on my fist, "It's something that my family doesn't even mention, because they know it upsets me."

Negan's eyes gently look me over. "That's why you were so distraught when he told you him and his wife were gonna try to have a baby. You said you'd be nothing to him anymore."

"It was the one thing I had of him that she didn't, even if I lost it," I lick my lips, "Pretty shitty, huh?"

"You slept with him because it's that time of year? When you lost the baby?"

"Yeah."

Negan exhales. "Well, you're not nothing, Pippa, and so what if you're nothing to him? You're someone to somebody."

I smile, peering up. "Jolyon?"

"That little boy thinks you're the reason the sun fuckin' rises every morning."

"Thanks," I sip from my mug, "You're a good pep-talker."

"I mean it, Pip," He insists, fixed on my eyes, "You're not nothing."

I look back at him, stunned by his words."Okay."

He smiles back, before his phone pings in his pocket. "It's probably Lu."

"Answer it."

Negan gets his phone out. "It's a text. She wants to know if I'm on my way home."

I twist my mouth to the side. "Guess you better hit the road."

"Yeah." He signals the waitress over for the check.

"Thanks for going with me."

"No problem," Negan smiles, "I'm proud of you."

I'm not nothing. My smile grows. "Thanks."

---

Thank you all for reading, reviewing, following, and favoriting! You all are awesome and give such amazing support. Hope you all enjoyed this week's chapter. I hope it wasn't too emotional, given the subject content.