A/N: This second part was prompted into existence by a message I got from Montana last night so thank you to her because I've been wanting to get back to this for a while and it gave me a good excuse to finally do it!
The house was quiet the morning after Chloe's birthday party. Abby, waking for the first time in a long time with someone at her side, took one last look at Jay, still sound asleep atop the blankets with his fingers curled around the pillowcase, and crept away from him and downstairs in the early morning stillness. She took a deep breath, standing in the hallway at the foot of the stairs between the living room, still scattered with pink balloons, and the dining room, where she could practically see Jay and Chloe, the picture of love on each of their faces. They had what Abby had always hoped for the two of them, the most loving and trusting relationship, a magical bond that she knew would follow their little girl for the rest of her life. Another look at the living room, and Abby could picture herself there with Jay, rising up on her tiptoes with her hand on his sturdy shoulder for balance as she leaned up with her heart racing to kiss him. It had been so long that she wasn't sure what she was expecting, but as her lips met his again, it had felt surprisingly right, like coming home after a long day. She guessed that there was something to that. Jay had always spoken to Abby's heart of home. He'd been warm and gentle, equal parts intense and light at the most surprising moments, and even now- maybe especially now- she was drawn in by everything that he meant to her. She headed over to the counter, drawing her sweatshirt in around her as she started the coffee. She recalled then the night before, following the kiss and the way Jay had looked at her and her invitation to him to stay. She wanted to say she didn't know where it had come from, but the truth of the matter was that she did. She had always had feelings for Jay, had always loved him with some part of her that no other man had ever had access to. It was just that he had gotten so distant and she had been so lonely and desperate. At the time, Jay hadn't felt like Jay anymore. Truthfully, Abby hadn't felt like Abby anymore either.
Now, as she looked out the window at the gray expanse of sky that promised rain and the trees that rustled in the morning wind, Abby felt herself again. In fact, she felt more like herself than she had in a long time. Maybe more so than she ever had. She poured cream into her coffee and stirred it absentmindedly, still gazing out the window and thinking about the night before. It had been a mirror of her first date with Jay in some ways; there had been nothing sexual about it, but something incredibly sensual in the way his eyes lit up when she said something engaging, and the way his fingers had hesitated at her own before tangling them together in the most innocent, fragile representation of their bond. They had ended up in her bedroom, on top of the blankets, laughing and talking until they both fell asleep. It had been a certain kind of magical, and as she brought her coffee to her lips and remembered the flutter in her chest at the sound of Jay's laughter, Abby wondered what any of it meant. She wondered whether they could make things work between the two of them again, or if Jay even wanted to. She wondered if she even wanted to. Then, as she glanced around at the sound of a creak on the stairs, she caught a glimpse of the only man she'd ever really, truly loved. She took a look at him, a long look in which she saw more than the wild golden curls that greyed ever so slightly at his temples, more than the lanky limbs and sturdy chest, more than the elegant jawline and clear gaze. And right then, she knew that she did. She wanted to. She wanted to do life with this man, as much as she always had. It was a reckless, but freeing, feeling to know that as she looked at him and met his eyes, watching him smile tenderly at her.
"Hi," he said as he approached, and Abby couldn't help but smile at the soft sound of his voice.
"Good morning," she answered. She reached into the cupboard and pulled out an empty mug, passing it to him with the lightest brush of her fingers against his.
"Thank you," he said quietly, turning to the coffee pot. She watched him, familiar with his movements even now. They existed there for a moment in comfortable silence, and then when Jay had gotten his coffee and they'd both turned side by side to look out the window, Abby sighed contentedly. She chanced a sideways glance at Jay only to find him already watching her, and she could feel the warm blush that crept into her cheeks as he smiled knowingly.
"Jay?" she asked quietly. He watched her shift her coffee mug from one hand to the other and brush a strand of her dark hair out of her face. Jay's fingers twitched at his side with the aching desire to run his own hand through her hair, but he didn't move.
"Yes?" he answered. She turned toward him, leaning her hip against the countertop, and tilted her head slightly, watching him.
"What does this mean?" she asked softly. Her dark eyes were earnest and hopeful on his. His breath caught and he kept his eyes on her.
"What do you want it to mean?" he asked.
"I don't- that's why I'm asking you," she admitted. She drummed her fingertips against her coffee mug with a glance down before she bravely and fiercely lifted her head to look at him again. "I need to know what you want it to be."
Jay seemed to physically soften. He had been desperate to be a part of Abby's life again for a while now, and the night before had broken down what little resolve he had managed to maintain up to that point. He took a deep breath and then reached out tentatively to tangle their fingers together again. With his other hand, he set his own coffee down on the counter and looked intensely at her. He could only hope as he met her eyes that the way he felt about her translated into his gaze on hers or his touch against her skin, so that somehow she would know. That she would feel his authenticity right then was more important than Jay thought perhaps it had ever been before.
"I want it to be as much as you'll let it be," he answered. Abby's heart seemed to stumble in her chest, but she didn't move a muscle. "Abby," he said softly, his voice reverent. "You and I have messed this up too many times already- more times than I ever wanted us to. And it was never just one of us," he added gently. She blinked, holding back tears. They'd never spoken at length, and certainly never this kindly, about what had broken them, but now, captivated by his gentleness and the way he looked at her, she stayed quiet. Jay shook his head slightly, biting his lip.
"I don't want to let that happen again," he said. There was something raw about the truth he spoke that pierced through and shattered whatever faint traces of resolve Abby had so far maintained.
"Neither do I," she said softly. She leaned in ever so slightly, and watched his eyes flicker over her face.
"Do you think we can...I don't know, start over?" she asked. Jay sighed.
"No," he said, but quickly squeezed her hand in reassurance, shaking his head. "We can't start over," he clarified, "but we can start from right here."
Abby looked up at him, and the little ember of hope in her chest seemed to spark at the warm way that he watched her. She nodded her head, offering him a little smile, and leaned forward to rest her head against his shoulder. Jay exhaled in a sort of relief and rested his hand at the back of her head, his fingers in her hair. This, he thought, felt right in a way that nothing really had in quite some time. As the two of them stood there in silent mutual understanding, everything seemed to be falling into place.
A few moments later, they were alerted by the telltale sound of tiny feet on the hardwood and seconds later Chloe came bounding into the kitchen with all the energy of a little girl newly turned four. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Jay standing there in the kitchen alongside Abby. Abby glanced between them, unsurprised to find that Jay's eyes had lit up too, and smiled to herself as she watched their little girl race directly into her daddy's arms. He scooped her up and pressed a kiss to her crazy curls. Watching the two of them there like that, Abby's heart was full in a way that it hadn't been in a while. Everything felt warm and hopeful then, with the three of them gathered in the cozy, bright kitchen, shielded from the rain that had begun to fall outside.
"Daddy, what are you doing here?" she asked. Abby watched, waiting for Jay's answer. He smiled softly at Chloe, taking a quick glance at Abby.
"Well, I think what I'm doing is making pancakes for two of my favorite people," he answered, and watched Abby for her response, warmth flooding his chest when he received a bright smile in response.
"Pancakes?" Chloe squealed. She threw her head back and her arms out dramatically. "Best day ever!" she declared. Jay and Abby both laughed at her theatrics as she straightened up and tilted her head quizzically. She looked at Jay curiously.
"Who said that?" she asked him. "Ariel or Cinderella?" Jay chuckled lightly.
"I think it was Rapunzel," he replied, and Abby couldn't deny that it made her heart melt a little bit to know that Jay was that well-versed in princess movies. Chloe nodded, seemingly already moving on.
"Pancake time," Abby said with a smile and Chloe laughed.
"Best day ever!" she repeated gleefully, squirming out of Jay's arms to run in circles around the table in her white pajama set, decorated with a variety of sliced fruits. Abby recalled that Jay had picked them out for her, and smiled to herself again.
"Best day ever," Abby repeated to herself like an affirmation, so quietly that Jay almost didn't hear her. But he had, and as he met her gaze and smiled tenderly at her, the two of them sharing in one more quiet moment save for the sound of Chloe's racing feet, he decided that Chloe was absolutely right.