7:24 a.m. The numbers glared at Jax from his bedside alarm clock, mocking him. He had to be up in less than half an hour, and he still hadn't even been to sleep yet. He'd watched every single hour on that clock tick by as he laid beside Tara, listening to her breathe. She wasn't happy. He knew that. And he knew it was his fault. But he didn't know what to do about it. He couldn't tell her why he'd changed so much so quickly, nor could he change back into the person she fell in love with. He was sure of that, because he'd tried like hell.

The guys kept promising he would get over it soon, his first violent encounter as a member of SAMCRO. He wanted so badly to believe them. But it had been months, and he still saw Tiny's cold, dead eyes every time he closed his own, still smelled the blood. He'd nearly been killed. And he'd watched a man bleed to death. How the fuck would he just 'get over' something like that?

When Tara awoke for work that morning, Jax pretended to be asleep. But there was a part of him that that longed to pull her back into bed with him, wrap her in his arms, and tell her his deepest, darkest secrets. He wanted, and possibly needed, to cry with her until he couldn't cry anymore. Maybe that would help. Because holding it all in sure as shit wasn't working. But he couldn't confide in her, or anyone. Clay forbade him from talking about what happened. And so he suffered in silence, watching Tara slip further and further away.

He crawled out of bed, hoping a hot shower would help soothe his muscles, which were always tense these days. He'd gone out on dozens of runs with the club in the months since that first one, although he and Tig weren't allowed out alone together anymore. Nothing ever happened. Heated words, veiled threats, ultimatums- that was about the extent of it. It was all rather boring to just watch from afar. Clay promised him that what happened in Stockton was rare, and that it was just a freak coincidence that it happened to him his first time out. Jax was believing that a little more every day.

He set his pager on the edge of the sink and turned on the shower, letting the water run as he undressed. The hot water felt good on his skin, and he let out a long, low sigh. He hung his head, the shower stream massaging his neck and soaking his hair. He reached for the shampoo with his eyes closed, realizing almost too late that he'd grabbed Tara's instead of his own. He opened the cap and sniffed, smiling. He loved the way her shampoo smelled. He couldn't remember the last time they'd showered together.

He grabbed the soap and lathered up his chest, rather proud of how muscular he was becoming. He'd always had a good physique, but now he was downright hulking. He would never be as big as Opie physically, but comparatively, their muscles were about the same size now. He breathed in the steam, hoping it would help soothe his aching lungs.

"Shit," he groaned, not realizing until he turned off the shower and reached for a towel that he'd forgotten to grab one. He stepped out of the shower bare, shivering at the sudden change in temperature. He placed one hand on the sink to steady himself and leaned toward the towel rack, not wanting to track puddles all over the floor. Just as his left hand grabbed hold of the towel, his right hand slipped, sending him lunging forward. He bashed his ribs on the porcelain sink with a force that took his breath away, but managed to keep from falling. His pager fell from the edge of the sink into the trash can.

"Fuck," he growled. He stood slowly, his side throbbing. His skin was already turning a deep reddish-purple. He scrubbed his head briskly with the towel, then wrapped it around his waist. When he bent down to retrieve his pager from the trash can, he let out a quiet grunt. It felt like maybe he'd cracked a rib.

He grabbed the small plastic bucket and dumped its contents out on the counter, not wanting to have to dig to the bottom to find his pager. It landed with a clatter, on top of an official looking envelope with a navy blue and gold college crest on the back.

"The University of California, San Diego," he muttered, pulling a single-page letter out of the already open envelope.

"I gotta go," Jax said quickly, tapping on the hood of the car Bobby was underneath. He'd been watching the parking lot all day from the TM garage, waiting. He hurried toward the clubhouse, hoping to beat her inside.

"Hey," Tara called after him as she got out of her car. Jax ignored her, making a beeline for their apartment. He was perched on the edge of the bed when Tara walked through the door, a confused look on her face. "Hey," she repeated.

"Hey," Jax said, his jaw clenched.

"Everything okay?" Tara took an apprehensive step into the room.

Jax slapped the envelope onto the bed beside him, his eyes blazing. "You tell me."

Tara's face went sheet white. "Where did you…are you spying on me? Going through our trash?!"

"No, I dropped my…it doesn't matter. The point is, I found it. Your college acceptance letter to your number one choice. In the trash."

Tara crossed her arms defiantly, raising an eyebrow. "So?"

"What the hell, Tara?"

"I changed my mind," she said nonchalantly. "I don't want to go there anymore." She set her purse down on the dresser and made her way to the mini fridge in the corner of the room, pulling out a bottled water.

Jax was incredulous. "You changed your mind?" Tara nodded, taking a drink of her water, focusing very hard on reading the label. "Tara." She looked up, tears in her eyes. The expression on her face broke Jax's heart. She was trying so hard to be strong. She'd been doing that a lot lately. The more closed off Jax got, the more stoic she became. But that wasn't her. She had a good heart. She felt everything. "Tara," he said gently. "What's going on?"

She laughed in frustration, the tears rolling down her cheeks. She didn't bother wiping them away. "What's going on? What's going on?! That's a good question, Jax. Why don't you tell me?" Jax sighed, biting his lip. He knew it was time for them to have this conversation.

"So, what? You're going to give up your dream because I've been being a dick lately? How does that make sense?"

Tara rolled her eyes. "How typical. Of course everything I do is to get a reaction out of you, right? Because the whole fucking world revolves around Jax Teller! It always has!"

Jax was taken aback. Tara was so hostile. He'd never seen her like that. "Then enlighten me."

Tara was quiet for a long moment, trying to decide how to respond. She took a seat in the corner chair, the one she and Jax often watched movies in together. "We're falling apart Jax," she finally said, fresh tears falling from her eyes. "I don't know how it happened, or why it happened. I'm trying so hard to hold everything together, to get through to you. But nothing's working. How am I supposed to even think about leaving, if we can't make things work when I'm right here?"

Jax didn't know what to say. And he didn't know if he'd even be able to speak through the lump in his throat if he tried. She was right. Tara was 100% right. He knew he'd been hurting her by pushing her away, but he had no idea how much.

"I'm right here, Jax, and you don't even see me!" Tara buried her face in her hands, sobbing quietly. Jax made his way to her quickly, wrapping his arms around her. She buried her face in his stomach and wept. After a moment, Jax knelt down so that they were eye to eye.

"I do see you," he said, his voice breaking. "And I finally see what I'm doing to you." His guilt was overwhelming. "I'm so sorry, babe." He'd never cried in front of Tara. But if ever there was a time for him to reveal that side of himself, this was it. Tara took his face in her hands and smiled.

They kissed, both of their faces wet with tears. For the first time in a long time, Jax let her in. He forgot, if only for a moment, about the club, about Stockton, about Tiny. None of that mattered. All that mattered was him showing the woman he loved how much he loved her.

He picked Tara up and carried her to the bed, stopping briefly to kick their door closed and lock it. He laid her down gently, not taking his eyes off her. "I love you, Tara," he said, pressing his lips to hers.

"I love you too, Jax," she said. Their tongues tangled together as Jax ran his fingers through her long hair. She smiled and helped him pull her shirt off over her head, unhooking her bra before she lay back down. Jax's tongue worked its way to her neck, then her chest. He wanted to feel every inch of her, taste every part of her. She arched her back toward him in response, grabbing greedily at his flesh. They'd made love so many times now, they knew each other's bodies as well as they knew their own. And still, something was different this time. More intense.

Jax unbuttoned Tara's jeans and slid them down her long, perfect legs, removing her shoes and socks along with them. She was wearing the black SAMCRO panties Jax had snatched out of the most recent shipment of gear the club received. He smiled. Tara noticed.

"I'm yours, Jax," she reminded him. "Always." In one movement, he kicked off his shoes and pulled off his pants and his boxers. He thought about stopping to remove his socks, but decided it wasn't necessary. He pressed himself against Tara. She writhed beneath him, anxiously awaiting his next move. He studied her face. She was so beautiful. There was a fire in her eyes he hadn't seen in months. That fire was everything to him. She was everything to him. How had he forgotten that?

He kissed her once more, then allowed his lips to travel back down her neck, between her breasts, to her navel. When he reached her waist, he paused. He took the band of her panties in his teeth and began to pull them down using only his mouth. Tara shivered involuntarily.

Once the panties reached her ankles, Jax used his hands to remove them the rest of the way, tossing them across the room. Tara giggled. He crawled back toward her, drinking in the sight of her. She licked her lips, her body rigid with anticipation. Jax used his knee to slowly part her legs, making room for his body between them. He didn't take his eyes away from hers as he slid himself inside her.

Tara sighed. Jax moaned, almost overcome by the way Tara's body welcomed him. God, he'd missed her. She was familiar and new at the same time. She clawed at his back, pulling him closer as they moved against each other in perfect rhythm.

"I love you," she breathed.

"I love you too," Jax promised. "Always."

7:24 p.m. The numbers were slow coming into focus as Jax awoke, his head in a fog.

"Hey there, sleepy head," Tara said quietly. Her face was peaceful in a way it hadn't been in a long time.

"Was I asleep?" Jax asked, his voice rough.

Tara giggled. "For about four hours. I didn't realize I was that good." Jax pulled her into his arms, kissing her.

"You're better than good," he said. Tara rested her head on his shoulder, letting out a sigh of contentment. Content. What an underrated word. Jax would never take being content for granted again.

He reached to turn on the bedside lamp, his hand bumping Tara's acceptance letter on the nightstand. He picked it up, holding it between two fingers as if it might burst into flames. It was the elephant in the room, disguised as a piece of mail.

"We gotta talk about it," he said, pulling the letter away as Tara tried to snatch it from his hand.

"There's nothing to talk about," she argued. "There's no way I can leave you to go to school halfway across the state. We're barely holding on as it is."

"I know. And that's my fault. I've really been putting you through it lately, and I'm sorry. It's just…" he paused, knowing he had to be careful. "I didn't expect things to be this hard." Once the words were out there, Jax realized how strange they sounded. His entire life, he'd known he would someday prospect SAMCRO. The club members were his family, the clubhouse his second home. It had always been that way. So why the fuck was it such a big adjustment for him? He knew why. Tiny. But he couldn't tell Tara that.

"What's going on, Jax?" Tara asked, her voice pleading. "Tell me. Let me help you." His eyes stung with tears as he bit his lip and shook his head.

"I can't. There are some things I just can't tell you, babe, and that's maybe the hardest part for me. But I have to find a way to balance all this shit better. I know that."

Tara sighed, dissatisfied. "Okay."

"But you…I cannot let you give up your future because of me. I would never forgive myself. You have to go to San Diego, Tara."

"Not without you," she insisted, her eyes welling up with tears. "I won't do it. If you want me to go, you have to come with me." Jax looked down at Tara, stunned. He'd never even considered it. A life outside Charming? Away from the club? Away from his mother?

He shook his head. "I can't." Tara sat up, pulling away from him. She tucked her knees up to her chest and stared at him with intense eyes.

"Why not?" she asked. "This is your life, Jax. You're eighteen. In a few months, we'll be graduating. You don't have to stay in Charming. You don't have to devote your life to SAMCRO. And you don't have to take care of your needy, overbearing mother. That's Clay's job now. You're so much more than just a badass biker boy, and you don't even see it because no one around here sees you as anything else. But I do. UC has a top notch writing program, and you're a phenomenal writer, Jax. Don't let Gemma pigeonhole you into becoming your father."

Jax's head was spinning. The thing weighing on him the heaviest was that in eighteen and a half years of life, he'd never given any consideration to leaving Charming. That was how brainwashed Gemma had him. He was at a point in his life where he should want to go out and explore the world. He wasn't shackled to Charming by anything other than the hold his mother had over him. He instantly became resentful. And angry. How had he been so blind? Sure, he loved the club, but was it really what was best for him? He shouldn't be struggling so much with life as a prospect. SAMCRO was in his blood, right? It should be easy. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be. Maybe Tara was right. This was his life. And he'd been living it for everyone but him.

"Okay," he said quietly.

Tara's mouth fell open. "What did you just say?"

"I said okay," Jax repeated, a slight smile starting to form in the corners of his mouth. "I'll go to San Diego with you."

"Really?" Tara's voice was barely a whisper. "Don't mess with me Jax. It's not funny."

"I'm serious," he promised. "Let's do it. Let's move to San Diego."

"Oh my God!" Tara squealed, lunging at Jax. The back of his head hit the headboard as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him excitedly.

"Owww," he groaned.

"Oh, sorry, sorry, sorry!" she giggled, rubbing the back of Jax's head, trying to pretend she didn't notice the scar he was never going to tell her about. "Oh my God. I can't believe this. We're moving to San Diego?!"

"Looks like it." Jax had never seen Tara so happy. Any doubt he had that he was making the right decision was erased by the smile on his girl's face. How had he never noticed how unhappy she was in Charming, how badly she wanted to get out?

"Oh my God," Tara said again, her voice taking on a completely different tone. "How are you gonna tell Gemma?"

"Easy," Jax said with a smile. "I'm not."