This is a follow up fic to my girl code duty fic, but all you need to know is that Kim never slept with Roman, that's because of Sylvie. This does have a happy ending.
"And Kim, for what it's worth? If I was you, I'd probably spend some time thinking about that reason why—maybe your relationship with Adam isn't as failed as you think. But I know I don't know the ins and outs, so maybe don't give my opinion much thought."
Sylvie's words stay in Kim's mind for the remainder of the day.
They replay in her mind on the taxi journey back to her flat, they replay as Kim quickly showers, washing away her hangover and the near bad decision she did, and they replay as she drives to work.
Already Kim had woken up with some complicated thoughts. Waking up, hungover and in Sylvie's bed, with the knowledge that had the paramedic not been there, she would've woken up in Roman's bed definitely had put her thoughts into a tailspin.
God, what had gotten into her?
Kim has never made good decisions after a breakup; ever since she was a teenager and her first, real boyfriend had broken up with her the day after she had sex with him. She's long recognised this pattern of hers, of not making good decisions when she's hurting, but Kim had thought, up until this morning, that she had finally kicked the pattern.
Apparently not.
In fact, Kim thinks it's perhaps gotten worse. It wasn't like she had gone to get wasted in a club, or even just picked up some random man in Molly's, or another bar. That is what she would've maybe expected after a breakup, even if she thought she had got better at her destructive habits, because it wasn't just a breakup—it was an ended engagement, an ended engagement with Adam.
But she hadn't nearly gone home with some random man. She had nearly gone home with Roman. Her partner. Her co-worker. A man she'd have to see every day at work, a man she couldn't just ignore that it ever happened. A man that Adam hates.
There's no escaping the fact there's more layers than stupid drunkenness to the decision she nearly made. No matter how much Kim wants to, she can't just put it down to her being drunk and on the rebound. And Kim, like Sylvie suggested, does need to face the reasons why she was going to do that, to examine them, even though her mind is telling her that she should just put the whole night out of her head.
Out of sight, out of mind.
There's been a lot of times in Kim's life that's been her motto. When you have the habit to make bad choices, and an unwillingness to examine them, it's easy for that to become words you live by. Her late teens and early twenties was full of her making choices and then running from them.
Somewhere down the line, she had stopped making bad decisions, growing up, putting aside all her lingering issues that made her struggle in that part of her life. Somewhere around the time she decided to quit being a flight attendant and signed up for the police academy to complete her life long dream of being a cop.
But then, she met Adam, fell in love, and broke her heart, and now, recently, in a way it's been her motto again.
Every time Adam's approached her at work to talk, she's shut him down, putting distance between them, calling him Ruzek, embodying the words of out of sight, out of mind. If she acts like she's fine, that they're nothing, it helps her not to feel the pain as much. She's avoided Kevin, not because she thinks he'd make her address her and Adam, he wouldn't, even if he wanted to, he's too good of a person to push her in a way she doesn't want, but because she can't help but think of Adam when she looks at him. Breaking down in front of Trudy had probably helped her on that angle, as the woman hadn't even tried to broach the subject of Adam with her.
All of this helps Kim get through the day. Helps her from wanting to break down, helps her at least have some enjoyment in her work, helps her from ignoring the aching hole in her heart. It's self preservation, something Kim is good at.
Too good, Kim sometimes thinks.
The aching in her heart hasn't lessened, she still goes home and finds herself bawling her eyes out every night. Her thoughts are dark when she's home alone, her mind telling her all she said to Sylvie last night. That she's an idiot. That she doesn't deserve a happy ending. That no one will ever want her ever again.
But in the daytime, when she's around others, she pushes all that away. Makes moves to get on with her life. Focuses on her job, the job she loves so much. She has to make sacrifices, like no longer hanging around with Kev. She loves him, their friendship, his siblings and she misses hanging with him all the time. But he's Adam's best friend as well, and even though Kim knew him first, Adam needs him more. Kim doesn't like thinking about what Adam must be going through, but she knows he deserves to be able to, unfiltered, talk to his friend about it. And that would be harder if Kim was also confiding in Kevin.
But it's okay. She's branching out. Erin and her have really bonded, and Kim has people like Sylvie, and Platt. And she may not of spent much time with Natalie, but she can see that they'll be good friends. So it's okay, she doesn't have Kev, but she has support.
New support. Change can be good, or at least that what she tries to tell herself. Change helps. Change helps you heal.
Like with Kim's apartment. Her lease is coming to an end, and initially she wasn't going to renew it, moving in fully with Adam, because even if she'd prefer a place that's theirs, it didn't make sense to renew the lease when engaged.
But then they broke up. Kim debated telling her landlord she'd be renewing it, but the apartment reminds her too much of Adam. Of their first real kiss, of the first time they had sex, of the first time he made her breakfast, of their first fight. Continuing to live there is only going to prolong her pain, so she's been looking for new places, telling herself it'll help her heal, all while she ignores how she wishes Adam was looking with her.
But when anyone asks her about her apartment hunt, she puts on a smile and focuses on the parts she's enjoying, or even the parts she's not, just never touching upon how her hand empty her hand feels. Never because Kim pushes all those thoughts out of her mind, once again resetting to her self preservation mindset; that if as long as she doesn't think about it, it doesn't exist.
And that's exactly what Kim so achingly wants to do with what nearly happened last night.
To just get on with her life, never reflecting upon why she thought rebounding with Roman would be a good decision, why her mind went there, why when she's never found him desirable in that way, why when she knows exactly how Adam feels about him.
But she can't, for all those reasons.
Without too much reflection, Kim knows that going to sleep with Roman, is her being destructive. She knows this. She may not know why, or who she's destroying, but she knows the thought didn't come from any okay, sane part of her.
And at the same time, she knows ignoring this, never addressing or speaking about what nearly happened, would be more destructive than the decision itself.
She wishes she didn't. She wishes that she could just forget it ever happened, that Sylvie's words aren't replaying in her mind on a loop. That her own words to Sylvie, as she assured her that it wouldn't nearly happen again, doesn't replay in her mind.
As soon as Kim voiced it, voiced that perhaps it was her being destructive, that it was because Adam doesn't like Roman, even if she was just voicing that because she wanted, needed, Sylvie to understand that her wanting to sleep with Roman was never ever going to happen again, Kim knew it would mean she has to reflect on the reason why, and what that means.
And then Sylvie said that. 'If I was you, I'd probably spend some time thinking about that reason why'.
Any chance of Kim being able to ignore last night disappeared as soon as Sylvie said that. It makes it real. It makes Kim have another voice that's not her own rattle around her head. It makes it so much harder to ignore, to run, because Kim can't just put it down to her own overly anxious thoughts anymore.
Sylvie, ever the sweetheart, had added a qualifier. 'But I know I don't know the ins and outs, so maybe don't give my opinion much thought'. An out, as it were. Because Sylvie doesn't know the ins and outs, and it's so much easier to have a straightforward opinion about something when you don't know all the facts.
Kim wishes that those words would replay around her head more, that they help to squash all of Kim's complicated thoughts, because why should Sylvie's words have such an effect on her when Sylvie's right, she doesn't know all the ins and outs.
Of course, Kim knows why they don't.
Because Sylvie's right, she doesn't know all the ins and outs. She doesn't know how quickly and hard Kim fell for Adam. She doesn't know how Kim's never been as loved as she was by Adam. She doesn't know how doubt snuck in when Kim found out he had been engaged twice. Doesn't know the doubt, the insecurity, the pain, the hurt that was planted and grew inside of her. Doesn't know how much despite everything Kim still loves him; that when she's crying into her pillow at night, and her heart hurts with how much it's breaking, that she doesn't pray the pain would end, she prays that Adam would be there, his arms wrapped around her because no matter how much pain she's in, everything feels okay when he's with her.
Sylvie doesn't know all of this. But that's exactly why Kim can't shake her words, push them out of her mind. Because if she did, Kim knows what she'd say.
She tries, desperately, not to think about what her friend would think if she knew everything, but it's impossible when she may be able to avoid putting it words, but deep inside Kim's heart, she knows.
Knows because it's the thing Kim's been stubbornly ignoring, running from. That up until this morning when she woke up sober, and remembered what she wanted to do, the thing Kim had successfully been ignoring.
Not anymore. The box she had been furiously pushing all her Adam feelings into, not even peeking inside when she cries at night, had been opened and it won't be shut until Kim deals with it.
She so doesn't want to have to deal with it. There's things she knows she'll have to acknowledge if she does, things she's not sure what they are, but knows they're there, lurking beneath the surface. Even the way she doesn't want to deal with this is something she needs to deal with, to examine the exact reasons why she doesn't.
But she will. She has to, unsure if she'll ever get peace if she doesn't. Knowing that her mind will keep dragging her deep into her thoughts if she doesn't, and with her job, when people entrust her with the safety and lives, that isn't something she has the luxury to allow.
And all while, the urge to run, from herself, from the way her life has become, is overwhelmingly dominant, fighting against her rationality. Telling her that she should try and transfer again, that she should use her time off and get away, that she should do anything but examine her behaviour.
(Telling her to run to Adam, into his arms. That she should just push everything away and ignore the reasons not too, just so she can lie in his arms, so she can feel safe, so she can pretend everything is okay, that they're back like they used to be, before he proposed, so she can know peace. Even just for a moment).
Kim tries to get Sylvie's words out of her mind when she enters the district. Sean's already at Platt's desk, and Kim quickly tries to move before they can spot her, heading straight to her locker. Unfortunately, a glance at the desk tells her Platt clocked her as soon as she entered, and Kim's not naïve enough to think the desk Sergeant won't question her about it.
There's some luck on Kim's side, however, as patrol is rather busy today and there's not much moments in the day for Platt to corner her. And thankfully, for whatever reason, Platt has decided not to drill her at the front desk.
Unluckily, patrol being busy means stuck with Sean all day, with no reprieve or break. He hasn't mentioned last night, or what they were going to do, but somehow that's worse, sending Kim's mind into overdrive.
By not mentioning it, Kim has no idea what he thinks. Does he get that was a mistake on her part? Does he know it's never going to happen again, that it was a momentary lapse in judgement? Or does he think it might happen again? What if he read into it even more, and thinks it wasn't going to be just a rump in the sack, but the start of something?
Sean doesn't even seem fazed. Just nattering on about this or that, all stupid unimportant little things that makes Kim want to scream. Scream at him, scream at herself, scream at the whole fucking world. His irritating habit to be nonplussed, to reveal nothing of what's going on inside his own head, making her have to guess and stumble around annoys her on a normal day, but now, today, it drives Kim mad, utterly infuriating her. At least normally her annoyance is outweighed by his good qualities—Kim can almost hear Adam's voice scoffing in her mind, asking what good qualities—but today Kim's irritation can't be smoothed over by anything. Not him giving her half of his sandwich, not the way he helps the old lady cross the road, going out of his way to do it, nothing.
Not only can she not figure out where his mind is, Kim can't even work out if should bring it up, or if she shouldn't, unable to get a read on him. Is he waiting for her to bring it up? Is he hoping she won't? Should she? Should she just quickly, casually inform him that last night was a one-off consideration? Just to make sure they're on the same page.
Or maybe she shouldn't. What if he already knows all this, and he gets offended she thinks he didn't. She doesn't, of course, because she doesn't know anything. And that's not on her, but him. But what if he does get offended, and she says something like that, rude and unfiltered, and that's what truly offends him. It could make things awkward, and when you're alone with someone in a patrol car for hours, having a good rapport is ideal.
Or maybe he'll be thinking the reverse. That maybe it wasn't a mistake. That maybe she'd still want to hook up, that she might want a relationship. And what happens if she clarifies she doesn't, that ruins their partnership. Maybe he'll transfer, like he did with Jenn—not that they're anything like that—and then she'll have to start all over again.
And this time it'll be worse. Being a female cop, it's always a Russian roulette on what kind of partner you could get. And even if she gets a decent one, the gossip mill can do a lot of damage. And Kim's no longer new, or needing a new partner because hers was promoted.
Already, the gossip mill can do a lot of damage for her, without this. Now she not only dated someone in intelligence, but was engaged, and the engagement fell apart. Kim's not deaf or blind, she knows her personal life is somewhat of a popular topic among the other officers. It's not malicious, really, cops are much like school children and this keeps them entertained on long shifts. But it isn't harmless, it can do damage to how you're seen.
If she was to get a new partner, god knows what they might think about her. And if she got a new partner because hers transferred, she knows the rumours will run loose. And who knows who may of spotted her last night at Molly's, if he transferred someone could connect the dots.
And then of course, he might stay in the 21st, but just request a new partner. Kim is sure Platt would try to squash any rumours, but she can't be everywhere. And what if Sean just outright tells everyone why, that she told him she wanted to sleep with him, and changed her mind.
Oh god, if he did, Adam would of course find out. The thought of that turns her stomach, of him knowing about the choice she nearly made, a choice she didn't go through with purely because of Sylvie, not even her own mind.
Kim's getting ahead of herself. These are all worse case scenarios, and she needs to stop spiralling. She can't, of course. Because of Sean. Because of his fucking unbothered, casual attitude, his fucking unreadable face, the way he never gives off anything, any inclination of how he's feeling, giving Kim absolutely no idea what she should think, or do. No way for her to reassure herself, that all these scenarios won't happen because she has no evidence to suggest otherwise.
All she has is the knowledge that Sean's most passionate about how he feels when he's pissed off. Which, of course, just helps feed her worries, of how he may react to whatever path she chooses. That he could be offended by whatever one she does, and things will be awkward. Even if they don't stay awkward, the thought of it even briefly being tense in the car, when Kim's already feeling such complicated thoughts about the whole situation, about Adam, about what it means, makes Kim's heart race, and the car feel way too small.
For the whole of shift, Kim stays in that state. Of being anxious, unsure, of trying to figure out how to broach the subject of Sean, weighing up the pros and cons of which route she could take. All while she has Sylvie's words repeating over and over in her mind, threatening to send Kim's mind into a further overdrive.
And it doesn't help that she finds herself thinking at several points, that if Adam was here, that he'd notice she's spiralling, loosing herself in her thoughts. And he'd take her hand, guiding her out, leading her to the light of her mind, muting all those dizzying thoughts. And he'd be able to do it with such little effort, because he's him. He's Adam. And this just further fills Kim with the urge to run, run to him, to his arms, to have him restore peace to her mind.
Of course she can't. Not only because she needs to face these thoughts head-on, by herself, not because going to Adam and ignoring all their issues won't do her any good in the long run, but because it's not what she can do, not what she's allowed to do anymore. No longer is he her person to run to, to quieten her worries, to kiss away her pain. No longer can she ask him to do that.
Nor should she want him to do that. Not when he's caused her pain, not when her heart is broken, not when she gave back his ring. But she does, oh she does, and that's getting harder and harder to ignore as the day goes on.
It's a miracle, really, that she manages to get home all in one piece.
Platt was busy reaming out some rookie when her shift ended, so Kim had gotten her stuff ready quickly, determined to get out of the district as fast as she could. But everything had nearly broken apart when, in her haste to get out of the locker room, she ran directly into Adam.
"Woah," he had said, his hands quickly catching her arms, balancing her. She had looked at his face, and his expression had complicated her mind more. He had looked at her with a casualness, as if trying to just act as if she's just another officer, but there was a concern, a worry, and Kim could almost see how hard he was resisting to ask if she was okay, to call her darlin', to hold her.
They had stared at each other for a second longer than they should've. The air between them was awkward, neither being able to figure out how they should act.
All Kim could focus on is how much she just wanted to sink into his arms, to have him wrap her up in a safe little haven, to bury her head into his neck, surrounding herself with his scent. The touch of his hands on her arms had burned her; she hadn't had him touch her in so long, and even though it was a casual, barely there hold, it had ached Kim's body, making her crave more.
Kim had opened her mouth, but then the sound of the other locker room door opening had come, spooking her, and she had fled, brushing past Adam and getting the hell out of the district.
She had no clue what she was going to say. Even now, as she lies curled up on her bed, buried under her quilt, she has no clue. Was she going to say thank you, for steadying her? Was she going to say that she misses him, that she wants him? Was she going to ask for a hug? How could she ever expect herself to figure it out, when she wanted to say all of it and none of it at the same time?
Kim groans, dragging herself out from her warm sheets and to her kitchen. With all these thoughts swirling around her mind, all of them making her head throb and her heart ache, she needs wine. Lots of it. And fast.
There's a moment, while Kim is about to pour a glass, that she briefly considers just drinking from the bottle, just needing to get drunk. But she pushes away that thought, not wanting to give up all the semblance that she's okay. Even if she's alone, unwitnessed.
She sits down on her sofa, wine glass in hand, feeling completely and utterly exhausted. Kim glances at her phone, wondering if she should call someone, someone to help her with all these thoughts. Sylvie did offer, and Kim knows it might be nice, voicing all these thoughts. Or there's Erin, after all, she's been Kim's main support recently.
But if Kim was honest with herself, the only person she really wants to call is Adam.
When did it get so complicated? So out of hand? The engagement, it was a disaster. Kim knows that, she does. She might only ever want to be engaged once, but she wanted to be married, to see that in her sight, to know her husband was all it as much as she was. That he wanted to build a life with her, just as much as she did, not just have her in his life.
And that wasn't going to happen if she continued to be with Adam. There's no doubt in her mind that he loved her, but that's not always enough. The apartment hunting, their parents; that's all part of married life, of being a team, of joining your families and dealing with them together. And he didn't want to do that.
Kim knows what kind of life that leads to. She saw it growing up. The way her father dipped out of family life, the effect it had on her mother, how it influenced all her decisions, the way it made her home never feel secure. Kim knows the two situations aren't exactly the same; she doesn't have the same wants, expectations as her mother, and Adam is nothing like her father, could never be so cuttingly unemotional, but they're also not completely unlike.
And up until this morning, Kim had been satisfied with that knowledge. It had hurt, oh it had hurt, she had thought she was getting a happy ending, marrying the love of her life, and it hurt so much to admit she wasn't. That it was over. But she had been solid in her decision, making moves to get on with her life- because that's what she thought was right, what was best, what would make her heart ache less.
Only, now, with all her questions of why she thought sleeping with Roman would be a good choice, Kim's no longer so sure.
Maybe she never was.
Kim takes a deep, long drink from her glass, rubbing her forehead with her hand, wishing not for the first time today, that she could just ignore all of this. Or that everything made sense, that everything she feels is clear, that she knows exactly what she wants, why she wants it and how she can get it.
Out of all the thoughts that have been swirling around her mind, all the questions, all the realisations, there's one thing that is clear to Kim, that's plain as day: getting drunk and nearly going home with Roman was her being destructive, a choice she was making not for fun, to get her mind off things, but as a punishment.
But to who, is the question?
Kim's never had any slight inclination to find Roman attractive. Objectively, she could see why people would go for him, but her, personally...never. And that makes it mean even less sense why she would nearly ruin their partnership, why when there's so much uncertainty of what they night could've done, made it so they could no longer work together, and if she had no real attraction to him, she can't even believe she had deemed a one night stand with him would be worth risking that.
Which can only tell Kim that her choice, the way the night was going to go, was a deliberate choice. Not drunken lust, which is something that never needs much deliberation, but an active choice. Somewhere inside Kim made the decision that sleeping with Roman is what she should do, and it was definitely not from her sex drive.
And if it's not because of lust, then it can only be because she wanted to make a hurtful decision. And sleeping with Roman, a man Adam hates, a man Adam has wanted to punch before, a man Adam has always said doesn't deserve to be her partner, a man Adam believes she can't trust her life with, most definitely fits the criteria of a hurtful decision.
Kim doesn't know how Adam feels about her moving on, or how he feels about her fucking other men. But she does know that out of all the men in the world, Sean Roman is the very last man he'd ever want to touch her that way.
Last night, Kim had felt so much overwhelming emotions. Between how raw and heartbroken she's already feeling from the aftermath of breaking up with Adam, and the utterly incredible way that baby survived, Kim's heart was overwhelmed. Full of happiness, joy, but also sadness and heartbreak, only punctuated more by Natalie's words, the reality that Kim doesn't have a loved one, no one to hold close anymore. The friendships she has is still so new, she's got space between her and Kev, and she no longer has a fiancé, a partner.
If someone had asked Kim how she was feeling last night, she'd say joyous. Happy. Overwhelmingly positive and in love with the beauty of the world.
If someone asks her now, to say how she was feeling last night, truthfully? Kim couldn't say that, because it would be a lie. On the surface, maybe, but deep inside, inside her heart, her soul, she was hurting. Hurting in a way she hadn't been, as all she wanted to do, so achingly do, is celebrate how sometimes, just sometimes, the world provides beautiful justice. Celebrate not with friends, or even family, but with a lover, a loved one who's special and so defined so differently than any other person in her life.
And that hurt, hurt in a way that had she not gotten good at ignoring those feelings deep inside, of locking them out, of just focusing on seeming okay, she'd have done nothing by weep all night, full of such overpowering heartbreak.
Because she doesn't have anyone like that.
Because Adam didn't want to marry her.
Because Adam couldn't give her what she needed.
Because she no longer had a fiancé, because she had acted in self preservation, she saw how they were barrelling towards a painful future, and she had gotten herself out, all while not realising how much of her heart she gave to Adam, how much of her heart she had left alongside him in that locker room.
And so she reacted to that pain, going back to her tried and tested ways of her youth, of choosing the destructive path.
Sleeping with Roman, that's a destructive choice. Doing that, crossing that line, Kim is unsure if she'd ever go back from that. It would change her world as she knows it, force her to rebuild her world anew.
It is a punishment. Not desire, not fun, a punishment. If Sylvie had not been there, hadn't stopped her, Kim would've gone home and slept with him as a way of punishing someone.
Someone.
At the start of the day, of when Kim first had the thought that this action could only be meant as a punishment, she had thought it would've been a punishment for Adam. To punish him for not telling him he was engaged twice, for not apartment hunting with her, for not meeting her mom.
A punishment for letting her go, for letting her give the ring back, for letting her shut him out, for not knocking on her door, for not fighting for her, for not telling her he absolutely wants to be on the hook, that he loves her, that he wants their future.
But now, hours later, Kim knows it wasn't. She didn't nearly sleep with Roman as a punishment for Adam, as a way of getting back at him: it was a punishment for herself.
For not fighting for Adam herself. For bailing when things got tough. For not giving them a chance to work things out.
A punishment because Kim still doesn't believe she deserves love. That she doesn't deserve to be happy, that she can't be happy. The women in her family have never had the best track record with men, and Kim's no different.
A punishment because Kim was hurting, hurting because of her own actions, because she walked away. All she wanted was Adam, but she couldn't have Adam, because she gave him up. She should've just called a cab, should've just gone home and once more sobbed into her pillow until she fell asleep. She should've done the healthy, normal thing and go home and let herself feel that pain. Show some kindness to herself, help herself through this breakup in a healthy way.
But she doesn't believe she deserves that, for more reasons than Kim ever wants to acknowledge. So she made a drunk move onto Roman, had leaned in when he clearly was making moves on her too, and she had agreed to go home with him after they finished their beers. Deciding to do this because she knows it would hurt herself, that if Adam ever found out it would hurt him in such a deep way, and that would be another punishment for herself, to destroy the only man she's ever truly loved.
There's no hiding from this now, and there's no hiding from the fact she's not over Adam, that she's not ready to be over him, that she'll never be ready. Because she loves him, so deeply, a love so engrained into her heart that she couldn't not even if she wanted to. And Kim doesn't think she'll ever be able to deny this to herself again.
It's a realisation that makes her sob, lying down on her sofa and just letting it pour all out. For the first time since the breakup, Kim wants to crawl into Adam's arms, but this time she can see it's not just the usual post-breakup need, as her heart gets used to being single, but because that's where she belongs. That's where she'll always belong, that being anywhere else is just not right, or in her ability to do.
There's so much that went wrong with their relationship, so much that Kim can't ignore. But now she knows that it doesn't matter, none of it does, because she wants him, that she's never going to want anyone else but him.
And that just makes her cry more, because she doesn't have him, she can't have him.
Sylvie's words swim around in her head. 'Maybe your relationship with Adam isn't as failed as you think'.
Everything else Sylvie said she was right to say. Thinking about the reasons why was something she needed to do. But that, the idea that Adam and her relationship isn't as failed as she thinks, isn't as over as she thinks? That's not right.
Because it is. Because Kim made it so. Because Kim, no matter how much she wants to, now more than anything, can't just go to his apartment, can't just knock on his door, can't just pull herself into his arms, to kiss him, to tell him sorry, to tell him to make her his wife.
Because it's not right of her to. Kim has no idea how he feels for her, if he'd even be able to accept her back, and Kim doesn't want him to still love her, to still want her, to forgive her for ruining everything. Because Adam is the sweetest, most loyal and kindest man in the world, she can't deny that to herself anymore, and he doesn't deserve someone like her. Someone who ran instead of staying, someone who has baggage, has the inability to believe herself worthy of someone like him.
Adam has his flaws, of course he does. And they're big, and unaddressed, they are relationship destroying. His lack of communication skills, the way he's so casual about things, just expecting things to go well if that's where his mind is, the way he breaks tension with humour, only putting a Band-Aid over the issue, the way he doesn't always express himself, but all that, all those flaws, they shouldn't matter. They shouldn't have mattered. Because she should've stayed, should've fought against them.
Should've acknowledged her own flaws, her own inability to communicate, her habit of preserving herself in a way that protects her from hurt, but doesn't allow herself happiness. And she should've fought against them, fought for Adam.
She's been so consumed with what he should've done, how he should've argued against his father, how he should've met her mom, how when she left him he should've knocked down her door, should've tried to talk to her anytime that wasn't at work, should've tried calling, all while, she should've been thinking about what she should've done.
How she shouldn't have erased every inch of her from his apartment before he got home, how she should've allowed them to have a conversation, how she should've made sure he met her mom, should've told her mom to stop being so busy for once and stay for more than a day, how she should've never listened to Sean about the push test and just had a conversation.
If she had done that, she'd still have him. She'd be in his arms, safe, protected, in the first place she had ever felt truly secure and loved. He'd be making her smile, running his hands softly on her body, lowly whispering sweet nothings, lulling her to sleep to the beat of his heart, his smell all around her.
But she had done that, and now instead of being in his arms, she's in her flat, drunk and sobbing into her sofa, never feeling more alone and empty.
A knock, brisk but uncertain, interrupts her. Kim almost doesn't hear it over the sound of her own sobs, but she does, and the sudden sound ripping through the air falters her tears.
Kim sits up, breathing shakily to calm her cries, wiping at her face as she looks at the door, trying to figure out who'll be knocking her door at ten o'clock at night. She glances at her phone, checking to see if anyone had called her. No one had, which rules it out being someone she knows, like Erin or Sylvie because surely they'd call first.
It's probably a neighbour, she tells herself. God, her cries has probably disturbed them. This is going to be so shameful and embarrassing, she thinks, as she heads to the door. Kim doesn't bother looking at who it is, knowing she's not very familiar with her neighbours anyway, just hoping she looks somewhat sane and presentable.
Only, when she opens the door, she's not greeted by an annoyed, nosy neighbour.
She's greeted by Adam.
His presence renders Kim shocked. Never would she have thought that Adam would be on the other side of the door, and Kim finds herself staring at him, in disbelief, half-wondering if she's fallen asleep and dreaming.
His presence aches her heart, not just because he's here, for some reason, at her door, but because how he looks, how he's holding himself, it reminds her so strongly of the first time she opened the door to him. The first time he said he likes her. The first time he said he misses her. The first time he picked her up and carried her to her bed.
Adam shifts from foot to foot, uncertainly. Confusedly. As if he's not really sure why he's here. His shoulders look heavy, something is weighing down upon him, and he looks as if he's thinking this may be a mistake. His body was half-turned when she opened the door, and Kim realises that had she not, he was about to walk away, change his mind about being here. That grips at her heart, knowing that she may not know what's prompted this visit, knowing that he could be here to tell her he's moved on, but knowing that the thought of her not knowing it was him who knocked on her door is something unspeakable.
As Kim stares at him, she realises the jacket he's wearing, the jacket that looks as if it has just been thrown on him, is one he hates to wear with the shirt he's wearing underneath. But he's wearing it, and Kim's heart beats faster at the thought that means he very well might've just tossed it on, needing to leave his place then.
Needing to see her.
He could be here for any bad reason, Kim knows this, but the sight of him wearing that jacket with that shirt, pulls at something inside of her and her mind spins.
It doesn't help that he looks good. So, so good. He's clearly anxious, and his hair is messy, ruffled, and he looks tired, but that doesn't change how attracted to him she is, how much the sight of him raises her heart rate, makes her chest tighten, how she aches for him.
Kim wishes she had straightened herself up, now. God, he looks so good and she's such a mess. She's been crying, drinking, wearing old clothes, her hair all over the place. Of course, he comes to her door and she's looking like this.
"Adam," Is all she manages to say, her throat becoming incredibly dry. She wants to ask him why he's here, but he's looking at her with such care, such worry and concern that Kim can't get the words out.
"Hey." Adam gives her a small smile. It's awkward, so awkward, the days of them being so smoothly in sync long gone, and Kim wishes everything could be different, that they were back in sync once more, that they were back to the beginning, just full of want, lust, the budding seeds of love in their hearts.
Adam lifts up his arm, rubbing at the back of his neck, as uncertainty and concern dominates his face.
"I, uh." Adam begins again, before stopping short. He thinks for a second, continuing to rub the back of his neck before he tries again. "Earlier. In the locker room. You, uh. Well, you seemed, I don't know, off. Not okay. And I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't be here, I know you don't want me here, but I just couldn't not come around, and not ask if you're okay. But uh—it was a mistake, because we're not, well. So I'm just going to go,"
Kim's heart twists at his rambling explanation. He's never really been one for rambling—that was her job—but he's clearly unsure, uncomfortable even now and it's brought it out, and Kim can't help but find that sort of cute, sweet.
At the same time, her heart pulls, feeling like it's breaking all over again at his assumption that she doesn't want him here. He's wrong, of course, she does, oh she so does. But Kim knows he's right to think that, not because of how she actually feels, but because that's exactly the vibe she's been giving him, telling him to think, and it breaks her heart to see that she's made him think that because right now, she's never wanted him more.
"Well. Bye." Adam says, and Kim panics, her heart going haywire at the thought of him leaving her alone again, of him no longer being her and she blurts out the first thing she thinks of.
"I love you."
Adam looks at her, unfiltered utter surprise taking over his expression. She can see his mind processing what she said, and trying to figure out why, what's changed, what this means. His mouth opens and closes, to shocked to be able to formulate words.
"I love you." Kim repeats, firmer, more confidently, certain in the words. "I love you."
The more she says the words, the more convicted she becomes, in her thoughts, in all she's learnt about herself today. They've got so much work to do in their relationship, they need to learn to communicate and not give up on each other, but she's never been so sure that she wants him, and only him, for the rest of her life.
They stare at each other, Adam's expression still one of shock, caught off guard by her words. Anxiety takes over her, and she scans his eyes, trying to figure out what he's feeling. Is he happy with her admission, or is he done with her? Has she left it too late?
Kim shifts, biting her lip, looking up at him.
"Can I have a hug?" She asks him, her voice barely above a whisper, so scared of the answer but so needing to feel his arms around her. It's been so many weeks without an Adam hug, and Kim doesn't know if she can survive without one for much longer, especially after the day she's had.
At that, Adam's whole expression melts, pure, unadulterated love washing away all his confused shock and suddenly, he's moving, stepping towards her and Kim's heart practically leaps out her heart.
With his hands, he lightly cups her face, leaning down to give her a gentle, chaste, but oh so full of care and love, kiss. He lingers on her lips, letting her step press against his in return, and they deepen the kiss for a brief, but ever so electrifying, second.
And then he's pulling away from her, but before she can miss his presence, before she can protest, he's pulling her to him, into his arms, wrapping them around her and securing her against him and suddenly, suddenly, Kim is home.
There's so much they need to work out, so much they both have to agree to work on, and she needs to tell him she nearly slept with Roman because they can't begin again with any secrets and god knows Kim would hate if he found out from Roman himself, but that's for tomorrow, they have the rest of their lives for that.
For now, for now all that matters is his arms around her, the sound of his soft breaths soothing her, the smell of his surrounding her, protecting her in their own little save haven.