"What the hell are you doing, Jax?" Opie sat across from his friend at a small table in the visiting room at Stockton. Jax still couldn't get over the sight of his best friend in prison orange. Opie's tired eyes were focused on the knot on Jax's cheekbone, the one from where Tara had slugged him, and rightfully so.

"I'm not here to talk about me, Ope, let's talk about you." Jax felt the pull of his swollen skin every time he spoke. She really got him good.

"Nothing to talk about," Opie argued. "I'm healing fine, get my stitches out next week. I get three meals a day and spend all my time staring at brick walls and concrete floors while I wait for my lawyer and the judge to figure out how long I'm stuck here. That's it. Now what the hell happened?"

Jax let out a long sigh and leaned back in his seat. Where to begin? "I fucked up," he said simply.

Opie smiled. "No shit. I heard."

Jax scowled. "Heard from who?"

"My wife, dipshit. Today was phone call day. She told me everything." Opie studied Jax's eye again, chuckling. "Who'd have thought Tara could pack a punch like that?"

"I deserved it," Jax said, hanging his head.

"Yeah," Opie agreed. "So what now? You're not really gonna let her go, are you?"

Jax looked up, confused. "Go?"

"Donna said she's leaving for San Diego today." Jax felt as if he'd been kicked in the gut. It was only in that moment that he realized there was a part of him that wished his plan wouldn't work.

"Oh yeah?" He tried to act nonchalant, but failed miserably. "Good."

"Jesus Christ," Opie said through his teeth. "Ain't nothin' good about it. Jax, when I asked you to take care of my family while I'm locked up, it was implied that you would take care of yours as well, not throw it away." Family. Jax and Tara weren't married and they didn't have children together, but they were still a family just the same. Or at least the start of one. Well…they used to be, anyway.

"Donna can't get over you fucking somebody else, can't figure out for the life of her why you did it. But I know you, Jax. You haven't so much looked at another girl since Tara. You didn't do it for you. You did it for Tara, to push her away."

All Jax could see was Tara's face, the raw hurt and rage caused by his betrayal the moment just before she attacked him. "It worked," he said quietly.

"It's a bad idea, Jax." Opie shook his head. "You need that girl. And she needs you."

"Ope, I can't…"

"I get it, man," Opie interrupted. "You think I don't drown in guilt every goddamn day in here? I have a wife and a daughter I can't take care of, and it kills me. I know you don't wanna end up like me, or Otto, or your old man. You feel like you can't ask Tara to give up her life for you." Jax nodded, fighting back tears. "But here's the thing, bro- you didn't ask her. She offered. And she did it because she loves you. And that- having a good woman who loves you and has your back no matter what- that's rare these days. Trust me. You should hear the stories people tell in this place. Donna and Ellie are all that's getting me through this. I'd have died in the hospital without them to live for."

"So what are you saying?" Jax asked.

"I'm saying put the stubborn bullshit aside and go get your girl, dumbass."

Jax shook his head. "She'll never forgive me."

"Then you make her," Opie insisted. "If you don't at least try, you'll never forgive yourself. And I'm not spending the next twenty years watching you mope. So if you won't do it for you, do it for me. Please."

Jax chuckled. His friend always knew exactly how to get through to him. "Okay," he agreed.

"Okay?" Opie raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Jax nodded. "Okay."

"Well get the fuck outta here, then! Go get her!"

Jax pushed himself away from the table and stood up. "Oh wait," he said, feeling the extra weight on his shoulders, the reason he came.

Opie looked up at him. "What's up?"

"I brought you something." Opie looked around the room nervously to see if any of the guards were watching. Jax could tell by the expression on his face that he was concerned about what it was. Knowing the guys, they could have sent Jax with anything from a cupcake with a razor in it to a blow-up doll. And gifts weren't allowed anyway, no matter how innocent. Jax smiled, amused, and stretched his kutte out to the sides so that Opie could see what was underneath it. Another kutte. His kutte. Complete with club patches and even his "Men of Mayhem" patch. He'd shed blood for the club. His club. Opie teared up. "Clay patched us in this morning. Congratulations, brotha."

Opie bit his lower lip, his chin quivering. "Thanks, man," he said.

Jax winked. "I'll take good care of it for ya 'til you get out. And your girls, too. Don't worry." The best friends locked eyes for a moment before Jax headed toward the exit.

The physical distance between the prison and Donna's apartment wasn't far, but Jax was sure Donna felt like Opie was in another country. He might as well be. Jax parked his bike out front and ran up to the entrance. He pressed the buzzer labeled "Winston" once, twice, a third time, until a familiar voice crackled through the speaker.

"Jesus, alright!" Donna complained. "Who is it?"

"Donna," Jax pleaded. "Where is she?"

"Oh, Jax." There was a sadness in her voice he couldn't quite place. "She's gone."

"Gone? Gone where?" Jax's words came out harsher than he meant for them to.

"Gone," Donna said defensively. "On her way to San Diego, just like you wanted."

"Shit!" Jax yelled, his anguish echoing through the neighborhood.

Donna's tone softened. "Why are you here, Jax?" He thought about it for a moment. Why was he there? Did he really want to put Tara through more pain, more heartache? There was a good chance she wanted nothing to do with him. He'd been awful to her for weeks, and what he did with Wendy…well, that was the final nail in the coffin. It was enough to make her leave town. Was it enough to make her hate him? He thought that was what he wanted, but now he knew differently. "Do you want to come up, talk about it? I just laid Ellie down for her nap."

"No thanks," Jax said. "I gotta go. I'll check on you guys later."

He'd gone everywhere he could think of- to her father's house, to the cemetery, to the café she'd worked at for the past couple years. There was no sign of Tara anywhere. She couldn't have gotten far. If he rode fast enough, he would catch up to her on the highway. He could stop her. But should he?

He raced back to the clubhouse to get his hidden stash of cash and a change of clothes. He parked his bike right near the door instead of in his usual spot, with no intention of staying long. He hurried through the doors, hoping no one would stop him to talk.

"Hi, sweetie," Gemma called out to him from behind the bar. "You hungry?"

"Not now, Mom," he warned, not slowing down. He reached the apartment and found the door ajar. He pushed it open slowly, not wanting to startle whoever might be inside. It was empty. Nothing looked disturbed. He walked to the dresser and opened the top drawer, reaching his hand to the far back corner, where he kept his sock full of money. Just as his fingers found what he was looking for, his eyes found something else. On the bed, right in the middle, was an envelope. On the envelope was something Jax recognized instantly. Tara's ring. He rushed to pick it up, as if it might disappear if he didn't get to it quick enough. Beside it was her key to the apartment, which explained why the door had been left open.

Jax's heart, which he'd worked so hard to harden in recent months, began to ache. It felt as if it was shriveling up inside him, dying. He knew why. It was because Tara was his heart. If she was gone, so was it. Jesus, he was so fucking stupid. How could he have thought, even for a second, that a life without Tara was even a possibility for him? It wasn't. She was his life.

He flew through the clubhouse and back to his bike, tearing through the streets of Charming like they were on fire. He had to find her. Had to stop her. Had to make her forgive him. No matter what he had to do- propose to her on the spot, sell his dad's bike and put down a down payment on a house, leave Charming, leave the club, break his oath to Opie- he would do it. He had to.

When Jax reached the city limit, he stopped. That "Thank You For Visiting Charming" sign on the side of the road was like an invisible wall, and his head was spinning from slamming into it with such force. What was he doing? None of this made any sense. He was panicking. Usually one to have a cool head in the midst of chaos, Jax wasn't familiar with the emotion. He needed to slow down. He had too many people depending on him, too many lives that would be in complete upheaval if he made the wrong choice. He couldn't act selfishly or impulsively. He removed his helmet to try to relieve some of the pressure in his head, but it didn't help.

He closed his eyes, hoping to calm his frayed nerves. But all he could see was her. Her smiling on the back of his bike, her hair blowing in the breeze. Her sleeping beside him, her lips just slightly parted, her eyelids fluttering as she dreamed. A pain bubbled up from his gut, tore through his chest, then burned its way up his throat, escaping as a tortured scream.

"Aaaaaaahhhh!" He threw his helmet into the dirt and buried his face in his hands, breaking down into uncontrollable sobs for the first time since his father died. He had to let her go. There was no other choice. Even if it killed him to do it, and it very well might, it was what was best for everyone he loved- especially Tara. They'd always been from two different worlds, orbiting separate suns. By chance, their planets collided. And it was spectacular. But it was never meant to last. Jax had to find a way to accept that.

He cried until there was nothing left, until his soul was lying in a puddle on the side of the road. And then he collected his helmet, got back on his bike, and turned around.

Jax walked into the clubhouse with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He barely heard his mother frantically asking him what was wrong. He wandered back to the apartment and sat down on the bed beside Tara's things. He took the key and wound it onto his key ring. It never hurt to have a spare. He took the ring and studied it for a long minute, remembering the night he gave it to Tara. He'd been so naïve, thinking a happy life was even a possibility for him. He clenched his teeth and tossed the ring out the open window. Then he picked up the note, Tara's final words to him, and slipped it in his wallet.

"Baby, you okay?" Gemma's voice startled him. He hadn't even heard her come in.

"Tara's gone." The words were like glass on his tongue.

Gemma sighed. "I'm sorry, baby." He knew she was lying. Looking back, Gemma had probably known Jax was planning to leave with Tara. And she probably would have gone to drastic measures to stop it from happening, had it come down to it. She was glad Tara was gone, Jax could tell. "I know it hurts, losing your first love. But you'll get over it. Besides, you and Tara were never a good fit." Jax inhaled sharply, pressing his lips together to avoid unleashing his pent up rage on his mother. "You need to be with someone who will make a good old lady, someone who supports the club." What she really meant was that she wanted Jax with someone she could easily manipulate.

"Drop it, Ma," Jax warned.

She stood beside him, rubbing his tense shoulders. "What?" She tried to sound innocent. "I'm just saying. What about that cute blonde, what's her name? Wendy? I like her." Jax stood up, putting space between him and Gemma.

He walked out of the apartment and down the hall, taking a seat at the bar. Some of the guys were mulling about, which meant the clubhouse was full of crow-eaters. Including Wendy. He felt a little bad about using her to hurt Tara, but not bad enough to apologize. He could smell her cheap perfume as she approached.

"Hey, Jax." She sounded nervous. She was probably worried Tara was lurking in the shadows somewhere, ready to attack.

"What's up?" he asked, disinterested.

"Nothin'." Wendy took a tentative seat beside him, her eyes shifting nervously as she twisted a blonde curl around her finger. "Just wondered how you were doing after, you know…"

Jax chuckled. Yeah, he definitely knew. "I'm good," he lied. The harder Wendy tried to make eye contact, the harder Jax stared at the beer bottle in front of him, wondering whose it was and if it would be safe to finish it off. She eventually got the hint and got up from the bar, backing away.

"Good. Hey, I was thinkin'…" Jax looked at Wendy out of the corner of his eye, only briefly though. "Maybe you could call me sometime? We could hang out. Just, you know, as friends or somethin'?"

"Sure thing," he said.

"You promise?" she asked.

Jax nodded. "Yeah. I promise." As Wendy disappeared from his peripheral vision, Jax pulled the note from Tara out of his pocket and read it once more.

Your promises mean nothing.

Apparently, they never had. And now, they never would.