A bright light turns on and you gasp for air. You're having trouble breathing, your lungs struggling to work right and it's making you panic. The feeling of Max's hands around your throat slowly fade away as you wake up from your nightmare.
John is trying to coax you to open your eyes. You can hear his voice and once your vision isn't blinded you see that he's reaching for you, wanting to calm you down. He presses his hand to your heart, which is almost beating out of your chest.
"Hey, shh. Just breathe with me, okay?"
Both of you are sitting up and you feel as if the whole bed is shaking, but it's just your body. The room is spinning and the warmth from his hand is finally starting to ground you.
"I'm sorry," You pant, trying to catch your breath. "I think I had a dream."
John leans towards you, pushing away damp hair from your forehead. You're drenched in sweat. You see that John's t-shirt is wet too and you're embarrassed, a wave of heat coming over your already hot skin. "I don't think you slept at all, you've been restless since you closed your eyes." His voice is soft with worry.
Your nerves are quieting down and it takes everything in you to hold back tears, trying not to cry. "I'm sorry. I should just go. I don't want to keep you awake."
If he's frustrated with you saying that you should leave, he doesn't show it. "Can you just let me take care of you? Just for tonight? Trust me."
All you can do is nod and he gets up, taking off his damp shirt and tossing it to the floor. You watch, sitting in bed, as he goes to the bathroom and turns on the tub. The bruises on his back are just starting to slightly fade. He's in there for a while and you look at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It's 2am. The emotions from the day are still with you, which means you probably haven't slept much at all. You're groggy and tired, and you just want to sleep.
You're sticky with dried sweat though and if John is making you a bath, you won't protest. Your hair is clinging to your neck and you don't even want to know what you smell like right now.
He comes back to you, motioning for you to follow him. You look at the bruises on his chest as he grabs your hand, steadying your wobbly legs and leads you into the bathroom. It's dim, with a few candles lit and this would be incredibly romantic if it wasn't for the crappy past few hours.
"You have candles?" You ask dumbly, looking around and you see the tub is full of bubbles.
John is unfazed by your inability to comprehend anything right now. "You're squinting, which means you probably have a headache. I didn't want it to be too bright in here. Can I help you get in?"
You nod and turn your back to him before taking off your tank top. You cover your breasts with your arm, even though he's practically seen all of you. It still makes you feel vulnerable. "Can you close your eyes for a minute?"
He does and you push down the pajama pants of his you're wearing. You're completely naked in front of this man, but all you can think of is how disgusting you must look. And smell. This is not sexy at all. John's entire upper body is dotted with purple bruises and you feel like a baby with two minor wounds.
"Don't look yet." You grab his arm for balance as you step carefully into the bathtub and he instinctively knows what to do, where to hold you as you sink down into the warm water.
"Are you good?" His eyes are still closed and you bring your knees to your chest. The tub is huge and there are bubbles everywhere. Considering the circumstances, this is perfect.
"I'm good, thank you."
John opens his eyes and kneels next to you. He's just in his sleep pants and you know that you made him sticky from your sweat too. You try not to let the thought overwhelm you with shame.
"I'm going to change the sheets and then I'm going to help wash your hair."
The sternness in his voice makes you smile. You couldn't argue if you wanted to. "You're a really good nurse, Mr. Wick."
He gives you a curt nod and moves to get up, the tasks ahead obviously on his mind. He stops though and gives your jawline a gentle swipe with his thumb. "How's your eye?"
"It's okay." You tell him, not really believing it yourself, and he doesn't either. He gets up anyway and you lean back, letting the water soothe you as you listen to him bustle around. You let your mind go blank for once and practice your deep breathing, and the words Beth told you to think about. You're safe now. You're safe.
Enough time passes for you to relax and John was right, the low lighting almost puts you to sleep. You startle when he comes back and sit up, running your hands up and down your face, the water a little cooler now.
He grabs the new bottle of shampoo off the ledge and you point to the conditioner with the pink roses on the label. "You'll have to use that too."
"Right." He looks lost.
"John, just get in the tub. This is the least sexual thing ever and it'll be easier."
He's completely stunned at your request and just stands there with the two bottles in his hands.
You stare back at him and scoot towards one end of the tub so he can get in behind you. "I promise not to look."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure." You're tired and you want to sleep. "I'm sure that you're probably sticky because I sweat right through your t-shirt. I'm sure that if you get excited while you're washing my bloody scalp, there's probably something wrong."
"You're right." He puts down the shampoo and you stare straight ahead while he slips his pants off, stepping in behind you. "This is not how I imagined our first time in my bathtub would go."
You can't help but to lightly laugh. "Really? Do I want to know?" You feel his knees at your hips and you know there's no way you could accidentally touch anything if you keep leaning forward.
John uncaps the shampoo and you can smell the familiar pear scent. "There was supposed to be grapes and champagne." He says, absentmindedly. You can tell that he's focused on your hair and not hurting you. He begins with the damp strands covering your back and slowly moves his way to the nape of your neck. You try not to jerk when his finger gets too close to a sore spot.
He pulls away quickly. "Sorry. This is harder than I thought it would be."
"It's okay, you're doing great." You encourage him to keep going. Clean hair would make you feel a lot better.
"I guess this is payback for making you give me a sponge bath, huh?"
You smile at the memory. "And I washed your hair in the sink."
"That's true," He's quiet and concentrating, his fingers slowly getting shampoo all over, including your forehead and you close your eyes just in case.
You clear your throat before you nervously ask, "Is this having the same… effect?"
John gets the showerhead to rinse you with warm water and grabs the conditioner next. "Uh, no. Not at all." He globs some on the ends of your hair and works it in. You can tell he's never done this before and even though his fingers are long and powerful, they're awkward and clumsy right now.
"You didn't have to buy all of these things for me." You tilt your head as he rinses with water again. "I could've just used your shampoo and stuff."
"I want you to be comfortable here." He gathers all of your wet hair and places it over your shoulder, your back completely bare in front of him. You feel fingertips tenderly follow down your spine and stop suddenly. "You have a bruise."
"I hit the ground pretty hard."
You're glad you can't see his expression because you're pretty sure it's frightening. There's a beat of silence and then he asks if you're ready to get out. You nod, and turn your gaze away when he stands up and steps out, draping a towel around his hips. He gets another towel ready for you.
The bubbles are almost all gone and he probably has a good view. You're not sure where the sudden surge of confidence comes from, but you don't ask him to close his eyes or not to look, and he doesn't offer either. He meets your eyes straight on as he helps you get to your feet, quickly wrapping the towel around your body, pulling you close as a shiver runs over your skin.
"Are you cold?"
"No," You say it softly, wanting to tell him he's the reason but you can't find the words. "I'm just tired."
He leads you out into the bedroom, but not before you grab the comb by the second sink. "Let's get you dressed. Do you want another pair of my pants? Your bathrobe?"
"Well, since naked is our new thing, I'm thinking underwear and a shirt." You grab some panties out of your backpack, slipping them on under the towel, and search for what would be a comfortable top. They're mostly work shirts, maroon polos with the gas station name embroidered on the front.
John hands you one of his t-shirts. It's v-neck, navy blue and it looks incredibly soft. "This is not very naked." He tells you, feigning disappointment.
"Oh, I meant you would be naked." You smile and take the shirt from him. He rolls his eyes and puts on some pajamas too, his towel falling to the floor.
The sheets are cool and fresh when you get in under the covers. It's now almost 3am and you're both exhausted. John lays back on his pillow and yawns, and you comb out the damp ends of your hair quickly but carefully, pulling it in a loose ponytail. He watches until you settle, then reaches to switch off the light. You curl up next to him and take a deep breath.
"I'm scared to fall asleep." You whisper, the darkness making it easier to admit.
He turns on his side to face you. "Did you know… that I'm an assassin in dreams too?"
That makes you laugh. "You'll save me in my nightmares?"
"Yeah. I'll save you wherever you are."
His voice is so confident that you can't help but to believe him. "You already saved me a few times."
"Consider a professional courtesy."
"Not personal?"
Finally, his hand finds your arm and you scoot closer. You've been waiting for his touch and you let your bare legs tangle with his under the sheets.
"It's slightly personal."
You pretend to be offended, turning so your back is facing him. "Slightly? What's a girl gotta do to get a very personal courtesy around here?"
The bed shifts as he leans up a little and you feel his lips touch your cheek. "Go to sleep." He wraps a strong arm around your waist and buries his face in the back of your neck. His chest is strong against your back and you breathe again, finally closing your eyes.
You don't have another nightmare, but you don't sleep soundly either. You must've passed out though because John is gone and sunlight is streaming in the bedroom.
There's another pair of his pants folded on the bed and you take them in the bathroom with you, brush your teeth, wash your face, and let your hair down. Your head is feeling a little better, but you're still too tired to think about anything so you go downstairs in John's shirt and pants.
Jimmy is at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and you cross your arms over your chest, hoping he won't realize you're not wearing a bra. You don't care anymore if John notices, but you don't want to indecently expose yourself to someone else. "Hey, Jimmy."
"Hey! How are you feeling?"
John is standing in the kitchen, perfectly dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a white cotton pull over, leaning on the counter and when he turns to look at you the small smile is enough to make you blush. You couldn't have even put on your own shirt? From an outside perspective it looks like the two of you had a very good night together.
"I'm fine, thanks." You take a seat next to Jimmy and notice that he has a notebook and pen waiting.
John hands you a glass of orange juice and when he tries to step away from the table you grab his hand, pulling him to sit down too. You don't really want to have this conversation without him being close.
You take a deep breath and start from the beginning, John nodding along to everything leading up to the knock on the door, having been on the phone with you. It's embarrassing when you have to explain that it was John's suit jacket that set Max off and you peek at John's expression, but he's just listening.
Jimmy asks some more questions, but it's pretty clear what happened with your injuries and he takes a few pictures of your eye and head with his phone. John takes a minute to inspect your head himself while you have your hair parted. When they're done you ask how John knew you were in trouble and Jimmy admits to calling him, and John admits that he already knew from the security camera alerts right before Jimmy got a hold of him.
"You did really awesome, you know that?" Jimmy says, gathering his things. "You should be proud of yourself."
You give him a doubtful look. "I have a black eye and a chunk of my hair ripped out."
He gives you the same look back. "Remember last time?"
Okay, yeah. He's right. You did do awesome compared to last time.
John is just watching both of you interact, but you feel like he knows what happened because he read the police report.
"The fact that you knew I'd hear you when you called me is really good." Jimmy explains. "You can always do that with 911 too."
"I'll remember that." You stand to walk Jimmy to the front door with John, thanking him again for all of his help. He tells you he'll be in touch about a court date, but not to worry about anything and that you're in good hands.
John pats Jimmy on the back as he leaves towards his cop car.
"See you, Jimmy."
"See you, John."
It's like they have their own little lingo and you wonder how long they've known each other. It's then that you notice your car in the driveway too when Jimmy pulls away.
"Hey… what's my car doing here?"
"Jimmy and I went back to your place and got it this morning. I drove it back here."
"What'd you do that for?" You don't know why, but you find the gesture to be really thoughtful.
John shuts the door, his bare feet padding along the hallway. "I didn't want you to feel like you couldn't leave if you wanted to. Not with everything you just went through."
You stop walking and stare at him.
"What?"
"You're just a really sweet guy. You keep surprising me."
He has a very guilty face and doesn't say anything.
"Oh no, what else did you do?"
"Nothing." He says it in his lying voice and walks to the living room. Pooch is sprawled out on the couch, passed out. He probably had a long night too with all of your commotion.
"John." You put your hands on your hips, looking quite crazy dressed head to toe in his baggy shirt and pants. "What did you do?"
"You…" He stands close enough so you have to look up at him. "Are incredibly cute in my clothes."
"We're not changing the subject." You're determined not to let him distract you. Sort of.
He wraps his arms around your waist and it's the first time he's done something like this outside of bed. It makes your stomach tingle. "Are you hungry?"
"Yes." You confess and give in, placing your hands on his chest.
He smiles down at you, eyes crinkling in the corner. "There's a really good food truck halfway around the lake. Do you want to take a walk?"
"Do they have coffee?"
"We'll get you all the coffee you want."
You put your head on his chest too and sigh. "I don't have any makeup to cover my black eye."
He squeezes you close before he lets you go. "Hold on." He goes to the kitchen and comes back with some very stylish sunglasses. "Will these work?"
Slipping them on, you grin up at him. "Do I look like an assassin?"
"Very bad ass." He laughs and you both head upstairs.
When you're alone in the guest bathroom, you finally look at yourself in the mirror. It's not as bad as you thought. There's still a small gash on your cheekbone and a bluish tint under your right eye. Anyone walking by probably wouldn't notice, but you definitely need to cover it up before going into work. Your hair is curly from sleeping on it and you brush what you can, leaving the sore spot alone. You still look tired and your color isn't back to normal, and you definitely need to eat something soon. Hearing footsteps heading downstairs make you hurry and get dressed in jeans and a shirt.
John meets you at the front door with Pooch's leash and the weather is actually nice out, cool but not too breezy. You grab your purse and the sunglasses, ready to go. The walk to the lake is only a few minutes and Pooch keeps you both entertained, John even stopping to take a few pictures with his phone.
"I have a question."
Oh boy, this is never good. "Yes?"
"Do friends take selfies together?"
It makes you smile. "You couldn't ask that when I don't look like complete shit?"
"You look beautiful."
"John." You roll your eyes at him, shushing the flip flops in your stomach and take his phone, pointing it at the both of you. "Are we serious or goofy?"
He steps closer and has to lean down a little. "Um, regular?"
You giggle and accidently take a picture. You were going to delete it but John is watching you laugh with a small smile on his face. It's really cute and John grabs his phone back before you can do anything.
"You know this is the start of something, right?" He asks, putting it back in his pocket and letting Pooch lead the way.
"What do you mean?"
He bumps into you on purpose, knocking your arms together. "Means I have selfie fever."
"Great, just what I need right now. Two beat up people taking selfies together, very classy."
John just grins. "I have another question."
"Oh, good." It comes out a little sarcastically. "I see the theme for today. Shoot."
He slows his stride a little so you can keep up. Your limbs still feel heavy. "Can friends platonically hold hands while they're taking a walk?"
Hmm. "That is a very good question, Mr. Wick."
"Yeah? I thought so."
You think about his question and what it would mean. At this moment you're too tired to figure it out and you feel like you'll probably need to bring this up at your next therapy session, but right now John is looking at you expectedly and it's not that big of deal, right? You practically slept on top of him last night.
You reach out your hand for his. "Only when we're walking?"
He eagerly switches Pooch's leash to his other hand so he can grab yours. "Oh, I can't promise that."
The lake is sparkling and there's not too many people around. You can't help but notice that John is walking in the opposite direction of the picnic table where you met. "Any other questions?"
"A few, but I'll save them for now."
You squeeze his hand. "So, it's my turn then?"
He squeezes you back, pulling you a little closer and tells you to go ahead.
"How did you and Jimmy meet?"
"Me and Jimmy?" He's surprised at your question, but answers it. "He was a rookie cop and had to go to my house once for a… noise complaint. I think someone told him what I do because he didn't give me a hard time."
"Noise complaint?"
"Yeah." John stops walking and shuffles his shoes on the dirt path. He's thinking of a way to tell you something. "Sometimes business happens at home, but not for a long time now. It's safe, I promise."
You push the sunglasses up over your head since there's hardly anyone around. "You know I trust you, right?" He doesn't say anything and you drag him back on the path to start walking again. "Okay, so I'm learning to trust you. And myself, so that's big, ya know?"
"I know." He nods and starts again, "So one day I was in the city and Jimmy had arrested this big gang banger, pretty hardcore guy. He wouldn't leave Jimmy alone after he got released and while Jimmy can handle himself… I helped him out."
"You killed the guy?"
John pulls on your hand and you fall closer to his side. "The whole gang. They were terrorizing the streets."
"Oh." You don't know what to say to that and wonder if John can feel your palm get sweaty. You pull your hand away and wipe up and down on your jeans. John is crestfallen, but you have to ask a few questions to feel comfortable again. "What if they were just kids? Maybe they could have been rehabilitated?"
"I don't… kid's don't cross my path. And these guys were underground, into sex trafficking and drug dealing."
You feel slightly better. "What about women? Do women cross your path?"
He hesitates and that's a yes. "Once. And I tried everything not to do it. But, I had no choice or I'd be dead right now."
You're processing and start to walk again. You don't feel right about judging him, not when you don't know the full story, but it's unsettling. "You'll tell me about it sometime?"
"I will." It sounds like a promise and you believe that he'll keep it. John nervously touches your wrist and you slide your hand in his again. "So, Jimmy…" He starts slowly.
"What about him?" You ask.
"I'm curious…" He pauses. "Why did you call him yesterday and not me?"
The food truck comes into view and you can smell breakfast burritos and coffee, your stomach growling. "I think seeing Max just took me back to that time before I knew you and Jimmy was the one who helped me. I didn't even think about you to be honest. I was in shock."
John frowns and you can see he's hurt. "Well, can you think about me next time you're in trouble? I'd kinda like to be there."
"Hopefully I don't get into any more trouble." You mumble, half reading the menu on the truck.
"If anything happens while you're at work, or home, or out shopping, wherever. Just call me first."
Even though you're starving, his comment makes you turn to stare at him. "John Wick… are you jealous Jimmy saved me and not you?"
"... no."
"Yes." You laugh and John sulks even more. "Do you still want to hold my hand?"
He grumpily lets go of your hand, just to wrap his arm around your waist from behind. "This is punishment for making fun of me."
"You'll always be my hero, John. Don't you worry." You tease, and lean into him. He asks you what you want to eat and you take Pooch to go find a bench in the shade. The sun is starting to get warm and it'll be a hot afternoon.
John comes over a few minutes later with two coffees and a brown bag under his arm. You both dig in, letting Pooch clean up little spills and you sit back to relax, enjoying your coffee when your stomach is finally full.
"When are you going to work again? Does Carla know what happened?" John asks, still eating. He ordered two burritos and extra bacon, which mostly is for Pooch.
"No, no one knows. I'll get some makeup to cover my black eye, I don't want anyone knowing what happened." You think back to when Max hit you and when you went into work with Gary there, and how he saw you were hurt for weeks but never bothered to ask if anything was wrong. You don't imagine Carla and Sam would have the same reaction, but you're not ready to share this much yet. "I already had today and tomorrow off, so I'll go back in on Saturday like usual. By then the door to my apartment should be fixed, right?"
John gathers all the trash and sits back to enjoy his coffee too, shyly sliding his free hand in your lap. "I'm not sure, I told Francis to call me when it's fixed. It might take a few days. I guess you're stuck with me for a while."
"Hmm… I could get a hotel, you know? Or stay with Carla? I don't want to impose." It's half a joke but you're half serious too. You really don't want to overstay your welcome.
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that."
You smile. "Or, I know this assassin who likes to fix things in random girl's apartments without her even knowing. I wonder what he's doing these days."
"He's busy." John plays along. "I guess you'll have to stay with me."
Laughing, you get up to take all of the trash to the garbage can a few feet away. Pooch follows every move you make and you pet him when you sit back down, John's arm around your shoulders now.
"I do have to go into the city tomorrow." You tell him. "Carla is taking me to get a dress for the wedding."
John's mouth twitches with a smile, his fingers brushing your neck. "Really? That should be fun."
"I think so, I'm looking forward to it. Oh, I keep forgetting to ask you. Do you want me to pick up a present for them?"
He crosses his legs and thinks for a minute. "I didn't really think about a present."
"I know, that's why I'm reminding you."
"Well, if I had to get Marcus something it would probably be a gun."
You put your hand on your forehead, laughing. "No, John that's not an appropriate wedding gift."
"Oh." He still looks so confused and it's adorable.
"How about we look for ideas online tonight, okay?" You stand up and reach for his hand because you know it'll end up holding his anyway. "Should we go back? I'm kinda ready for a nap. It was a long night."
"It was a long night." He agrees, getting up too and calling Pooch to come back from sniffing under a tree. "I'm glad you let me take care of you for once."
"Let's not get in the habit, I can take care of myself."
John bites his lip from smiling. "You're going to be so mad at me when we get back."
There are two small packages on the porch when you walk up to the house and you give John a look as he opens the door.
He avoids your eyes, carrying the two boxes and putting them on the table. You head to the living room and stretch out on the couch while John gets Pooch some water, coming back with a bottle for you too.
"How's your head feeling?"
"Better than last night but still not great."
"That's to be expected. You should try to rest." John grabs the blanket from the back of the sofa and drapes it over you.
"You're not tired too? I kept you up practically all night long."
John smiles. "Do you want me to lay down with you?"
"Maybe." You scoot over and make room for him.
He moves the blanket to get under, but stops. "Can we do the naked thing?"
"Just while we nap?"
Grinning, John unbuttons his jeans and you do the same, both pairs of pants falling to the floor.
"This isn't very naked." You tell him, yawning. You're thinking about taking your bra off too but you're just too damn lazy right now.
"Oh, I meant you'd be naked." He's joking and you try to shove him away, but he just laughs.
"No funny business, John. I'm serious."
"You're in charge." He lays down and you cuddle to his side. The couch is barely big enough for the both of you, but it works. Pooch jumps up by your feet to plop down and both of you groan. Now it's a tight squeeze.
"Really? I'm in charge?"
John adjusts his arm around you and suddenly you're very comfortable, a perfect fit. "Well… of this." He gestures his hand between the two of you. "Whatever this is, it's all your lead."
You like his answer and even though you're pretty sure he's making all the moves, he definitely hasn't crossed any boundaries. At least not without checking with you first.
"What's in the boxes?"
He closes his eyes. "Shh. I'm sleeping."
You poke him in the stomach and yawn again, the little energy you had left draining from your body.
It's late afternoon when you finally wake up and both John and Pooch are gone. You're so sleepy that you don't know exactly where you are or what day it is, but you finally feel rested. It's a relief to feel back to normal, aside from the tenderness on your scalp and the bruises dotting your skin.
There's a pair of John's pajama pants on the coffee table and when you slip into them you realize the bottom of the legs are cut off so they fit you better.
Well, he's not making this any easier. The lines are starting to blur in your mind. All you want to do is kiss him, but everytime you think about it there's an underlying apprehension. It's just not the right time. Not after yesterday.
John is in the kitchen getting dinner started and you slide into the chair at the counter, languidly watching him until he notices you.
"Well hi there, sleeping beauty. Do you feel better?" He brushes your hair back, caressing his thumb over your ear.
"Mmhm. Yeah actually, I do. Did you sleep? I didn't even hear you get up."
He stifles a laugh and goes to the fridge, pulling out some grapes to snack on. "You, my dear, were snoring."
"Oh god." You're mortified and hide your face in your hands. "You're never going to get any sleep with me here."
John laughs and tells you it's not a big deal. "You needed the rest."
He sets a bowl of grapes in front of you and pops one in his mouth.
"What, no champagne?" You ask, eating one too.
"Grapes and champagne are only for the bath."
"Oh, of course." You stretch out your leg and point to the pants with the seams cut. "And these?"
"I didn't like those anyway. Too tight in the crotch." John winks and goes to get you a glass of water.
You shake your head and try not to laugh. From what you've felt nudging you accidentally a few times in the middle of the night, you're not too surprised. You feel yourself blush at the thought.
"So, there's chocolate ice cream for dessert."
"What's for dinner? Do you need help?" You ask.
"Grilled cheese and tomato soup, if that's okay."
You nod, that sounds delicious. "Finally, the famous grilled cheese."
John walks around the counter and goes to the kitchen table where the boxes are sitting. "You only get dessert if you don't get mad."
"You're bribing me? With chocolate ice cream? Am I five years old?"
"Are you going to get mad?" He picks up the boxes and sets them on the counter, getting a knife that looks lethal.
"Probably."
"Then yes, I'm bribing you."
"Fine, I won't get mad."
He gives you a doubtful look when he snaps the blade open and slices the tape. Out comes a new phone and a new laptop. He puts the phone in front of you first. "It's all set up with your old number and I put you on my family plan."
You stare, dumbly. "You have a family plan?"
"Now I do and I'm really happy about it, so please just take it." Then he slides the laptop with a purple cover out of the box, setting it to the side. "You'll need that for school."
You take a deep breath and think about trying to give them back and the useless arguing just isn't in you right now. Instead, you decide that you might buy him something to return the favor, when he's least expecting it. Two can play this game.
"Thank you, John. This is really sweet."
He stops fidgeting and narrows his eyes. "You're seriously not going to fight me?"
The cell phone is shiny and way more expensive than your old phone, which used to be grandma's when she could still see the numbers. "I'm not going to fight you. In fact…" You get up and crook your finger for him to bend down. Your lips press against his beard and your arms fall around his shoulders for a hug. "You're my best friend, I hope you know that."
His mouth presses at your forehead and his hands are on your hips. "You're my best friend too."
You let the moment sink in, both of you swaying in each other's arm. "Maybe we are five years old."
Laughing, he pushes you away to start the stove. "Why don't you look for wedding gifts while I make dinner?"
"On my brand new computer? Hell yes." You're excited and you can tell it makes John happy.
It takes a few minutes for everything to boot up, including your phone and you discover that John isn't the best with technology, which you find amusing. Once everything is set, and after John suggests that your password be 'I heart Wick' you do a search for popular wedding presents.
"Well, there's money." You read off the screen. "That's like, number one."
"Marcus has plenty of money."
You look around the house. "I guess being an assassin pays well?"
"That might be an understatement."
"Hmm. Okay, well let's see…" Obviously John has money, but you didn't want to assume. "There's engraved champagne glasses, a custom doormat, wine, a nice frame?"
John shakes his head at all of the suggestions as he moves around the kitchen.
"Well what does Marcus like to do? Besides… well, you know."
John is slicing cheese and offers you some, putting it to your mouth to take from his fingers. You don't know why, but it makes your knees weak.
"He always makes me juice when I go to his house. It's never very good, but he was telling me his juicer was getting old."
"Perfect!"
"That's it?"
"Yeah! See, you can pick out a good wedding gift." You look up juicers and text John the link to the one you think is the best. From your new phone.
"Have you ever been married?"
The question takes you aback, not at all prepared for this conversation. "No… in fact, I haven't really dated much. I had a boyfriend in high school, but then grandma got sick so… and then Max."
John looks just as surprised as you feel. "So, the only real relationship you've had is with… Max?"
"Well, yeah. I was taking care of someone and working full time just out of school. I had no idea what I was doing, obviously."
John stops stirring the soup and looks at you. "Wait. Are you a… "
You raise your eyebrows. "A what?"
"Um…" He looks away, embarrassed. "Never mind, it's not important."
"No, John." You sigh. "I'm not a virgin."
"Okay." He says carefully.
You take a big drink of water, your throat suddenly dry. You already know the answer, but you ask anyway. "Have you ever been married?"
"Yes, I was."
Now you're careful with your words. "What happened?"
"She was sick for a long time and she passed away about a year ago."
"I'm sorry, John. That's awful." You think back to the tan line around his finger when you first met him.
John nods, looking down at the food. "I was pretty devastated. Couldn't even take my ring off until a few months ago."
"Of course, I can understand that. What was her name, if you don't mind?"
"Helen. Her name was Helen."
"Such a pretty name. Do you have a picture of her?"
He looks at you sharply now. "What?"
"Oh, I didn't mean… you don't have to show me, I was just wondering why you don't have any of her up around the house?"
"I did have a lot." John says, starting to take bowls and plates from the cabinet. "I just recently took them all down."
You remember the frames he had in stacks in different rooms when you first visited. "Okay. But maybe you should keep at least one around, you know? Just to have a reminder that she's always with you."
John's eyes are glassy, his lips in a straight line and you can't tell if he's pissed off or sad.
"Are you okay?" You want to grab his hand but unsure if you should. "Thank you for telling me about her."
"Yeah. I haven't really talked about her death with anyone."
You get up to help with the dishes, but keep some distance. "Well I'm here now. You can talk about it any time you want, grieve if you have to. That's what my therapist said, at least. Grieving is the only way for the heart to heal. And you don't have to grieve just about people. You can grieve about lost time, losing a job, divorce. Anything."
John gives you a soft smile. "You sound like an expert."
"I tried to block out grandma's death instead of grieving." You tell him. "Not only did I do that wrong, but I didn't give myself a chance to grieve about my childhood that I never had. I never really got to be a teenager either. So, yeah… I know it's painful and you probably don't want to do it, but it does help. How long were you married?"
You both sit at the counter to eat, a casual setting for such a serious talk.
"About 5 years."
"Did she know about your… work?"
John shakes his head. "She didn't. I hid it from her at first, and then I retired for a bit so she didn't have to know."
You wonder if you hadn't met him the way you did, would he have told you? There's some silence and you're nervous about what you want to ask him but you do it anyway. "Do you think you'll ever get married again?"
The mood instantly changes. "I thought I would never want to, but I don't think that's true anymore."
It's not exactly what you want to hear. You don't really believe in the idea of marriage and never truly did. The fact that you're going to a wedding is something you would usually not do, but John needed a friend and you put your thoughts about marriage to the side. It has a lot to do with your parents and how destructive their relationship was, but you decide this isn't the best time to share and keep your mouth shut.
Instead, you stuff your mouth with grilled cheese. "This is so good. Can I have another one?"
John just blinks at you, a slow smile forming on his lips. He takes half of his grilled cheese and puts it on your plate.
Out of everything he's given you, that half of a sandwich means the most.
TBC