A/N - sorry for the wait, i had to rewrite this chapter 3 whole times bc i just didn't like the way it turned out. i debated rewriting it again, but this chapter is already 4k words and im lazy.
Visiting his family's graves is something he tends to do often.
His fingers brush the stone with Angela's name and he sighs through his nose, willing himself not to cry. He feels guilty for a lot of things he's done in his life, but what he feels most guilty for is causing the deaths of his wife and daughter. No matter how many times he gets told it isn't his fault, he knows that deep down, it is. It's his fault for getting distracted. It's his fault for looking away from the road. If he had just paid attention, he could've avoided the crash, and they'd still be here.
Why the universe let him live, he has no idea. To punish him would be highly likely. Nothing hurts more than living without the people you love most in the world.
Empty. It's the only way to describe how he's feeling.
He swallows the lump in his throat and directs his attention to the smaller stone next to Angela's. The glossy plaque reads Charlotte, including the date of her birth and the date of her death.
Seven years. She'd spent seven years on this Earth and had her life ripped away from her before she could really experience being a kid. Seven years wasn't enough time. A hundred years wouldn't even be enough time to spend with her.
He hadn't even been the best father while she was still alive. He was away a lot, lying to people for money so he could provide Angela and Charlotte with a nice house in a perfect neighborhood. He wanted to give them everything, but in the end what he really gave them was an ending.
His gut wrenches at the thought.
If he could go back and change everything, he would. He'd become a better man and live the rest of his life with the people he loved and still loves. He wouldn't have done the things he did, but the past is in the past, and all he can do now is move forward.
He entertains the thought of moving forward with Teresa, the only person to make him truly feel anything besides Angela. She's so good that it makes an ache grow in his chest. A good woman with a good son. It's what he wants— they're what he wants.
But he doesn't want Angela to think he's replacing her and Charlotte.
He doesn't necessarily believe in the afterlife, but he likes to convince himself that Angela is still here in spirit, watching him live his life from the shadows. She'd scold him for using too much water in the shower and soothe him when he cries himself to sleep. And Charlotte is always with her, clutching her hand, watching him as well.
He can't have them thinking that he's replacing them. That's the last thing he wants to do. He never planned for Teresa and Theo to show up in his life, they just did. Just like that. And maybe he should've stayed away. Maybe he should've left her on the side of the road that night. But he didn't. He'd tried being a good person and helped her, and now he can't leave her alone.
It's just his luck.
His voice wavers when he starts talking. "Angela...you probably think I'm an idiot right now, and I don't blame you. I'm a mess. But I was a mess when I met you, and you still wanted me." He laughs brokenly, staring down at the grass beneath his feet.
"You were the only person who wanted me, Ange. But now there's someone else...a woman, but I'm sure you know of her already. I like to think that you'd like her. She's kind, selfless, and so special in a way I can't describe." He grazes her name with his fingertip, his chest feeling hollow. "I like her, Ange. A lot. And it terrifies me because I don't want you nor Charlotte to think I don't love you guys anymore. I do. I love you both so much and it kills me that you aren't here.
"I miss you, and I miss Char. But I know it's been years and you'd want me to move on, so, if it's okay with you, I'd like to try and move on with Teresa." He smiles ruefully, looking up at the sky to stop the tears from leaking out. "She has a son, too, if you didn't already know that. He's great. Him and Charlotte would get along."
The warm air caresses his face in such a soft way that he believes it's Angela's way of communicating with him, even if the thought in itself is bizarre.
"I just wanted you to know that I'm not replacing you guys in any way. She makes me happy, and while I'm not whole yet...I will be. One day."
He presses two fingers to his lips before reaching out to touch the stone, the kiss conveying everything he feels and more.
"One day," he repeats mostly to himself, standing up. And then he turns around and walks back to his car, his heart feeling just a little bit lighter.
XxX
As much as she doesn't want to tell Theo that his father is back in town, she knows she can't keep it a secret from him forever. So, as she finishes making him a sandwich and slides it over to him, she starts with a simple question.
"Theo, can I talk to you for a second?"
Theo pauses his action, his sandwich a centimeter away from his lips. But his attention is locked on his mother. "Yeah, mama."
She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table as she ponders how to approach the subject. "Your dad... Do you remember how he left a while ago?"
Theo nodded. "Yeah, he yelled at you and then left us."
She winces at the memory. "Yeah. Yeah, he did. But I have something to tell you. I don't know how you'll take it, but don't freak out, okay?"
"Okay, mama."
"Okay." She draws in a breath. "Your dad's back home. He says he wants to see you and spend some time with you. He's missed you all this time."
Theo doesn't react. It's like he'd been anticipating the news and it confuses her because there was no way he could've known. Not unless he saw Evan at the park the day before.
The boy picks at his bread crust, his lips thinning in disapproval. She already knows how he feels about his father being back; it doesn't take a genius to see what's going on in his head. He's always been scared of Evan although he'd never laid a hand on him. He was mostly scared of him laying a hand on her, but it was inevitable most of the time, even if he tried to step in and prevent it.
"What do you think?" She waits for his response, trying to pull some kind of reaction out of him, but he just shrugs.
Then, he eventually says, "I don't want to see him."
She isn't surprised. She's just glad he isn't afraid to speak up about it. Most days she doesn't believe she's a good mother, but he always makes her feel like the luckiest.
"Okay," she nodded. "If you don't want to see him, you don't have to. Just thought I'd check in with you first."
He was quick to change the subject, completely disregarding their conversation about Evan. "When are we gonna see Patrick again?"
The question throws her off guard even though it shouldn't. It's been two days since they've seen or heard from Patrick, and while it's not unusual it slightly unsettles her. Is he upset with her? Did she make him upset for leaving him out of their trip to the park? She hadn't mean to, she'd just been too caught up in her mind to truly understand.
She should call him. Or at least text him to see if he's okay.
Because honestly, she misses him far too much to be considered normal.
"I'll call him and see if he wants to hang out with us tomorrow, okay?"
Theo smiled and picked up his sandwich, biting into it and munching happily. Her stomach swarmed with butterflies at the thought of him and Patrick being best buds. It's like they were made for each other.
She leaves the kitchen and pulls up his contact on her phone, feeling jittery as she calls him. He picks up on the second ring, his voice sounding oddly dull.
"Hi, Teresa."
"Patrick, hey," she greets. "Are you okay? Theo and I miss you. Did I do something?"
"No, Teresa, you haven't done anything," he sighs, and she can practically see the forced smile he paints on his face. "I haven't had the best day, but it's alright. Would you and Theo like it if I came over?"
Her arms suddenly ache to hold him, to find out what has happened that wiped that usual cheerful smile off his face. "Theo and I would love it if you came over. We can talk when you get here."
"Alright, then I'm on my way."
"Okay. Bye," she hangs up the call just as Theo pads into the living room, climbing on the couch and reaching for the remote.
"Wanna watch cartoons, mama?"
A chuckle slips from her mouth and she sits down beside him. "Sure."
Nearly ten minutes later, the doorbell rings and Theo runs to the door, excitement lighting up his features. Teresa smiles and shakes her head, following him.
She throws the door open and Theo steps in front of her. "Pat!"
Her heart flutters when Patrick grins and bends down to lift Theo into his arms. "Hey, buddy! I've missed you."
"I've missed you too," Theo says. "Do you want to play cars with me?"
"As fun as that sounds, I need to talk to your mom for a bit." Patrick sets him down and magically makes a quarter appear behind his ear, earning a gasp from the little boy. "I'll play with you later, alright?"
"Promise?" Theo sticks his pinky out, smiling in satisfaction when Patrick links it with his.
"Promise."
"Okay." He returns to the couch to watch cartoons again, leaving the two adults alone.
It's almost as if they've never even met at all, with the awkward silence filling the room and the shy stares. Neither of them know how to approach a conversation, mainly because they're afraid things they'd rather not share would flow out.
Their semi-relationship is hard to figure out. They don't want to talk about their feelings— they'd rather keep them locked down, the key hidden and out of reach. Whenever feelings are spilled, things become complicated. They know that better than others.
They want to play the game Ignorance Is Bliss for as long as they can.
Eventually, Teresa meets his green gaze shyly. "Hi. Uh, are you hungry? Thirsty? I can get you something." She's already making her way to the kitchen.
He catches up to her. "You have any tea?"
He finds her little eyebrows crinkling adorable. "I'm not sure. Let me check."
He plops himself down at the counter, eyes following her every move from cabinet to cabinet. She looks absolutely magical with her Irish eyes and freckles and petite body. Not his usual type, not at all, but this woman just does something to him. Her touch electrifies him and whenever he remembers the kisses they've shared, flames lick up his spine.
"Oh, we do have tea." She rushes to make it and he stands to help, coming up beside her and brushing his hand against hers.
She turns her head, glancing at him. Her eyes flit to his lips for a split second before darting away, her heart hammering beneath her breast.
But nothing ever seems to go unnoticed with Patrick Jane.
He tilts her chin up with a finger, his own eyes shamelessly falling to her lips. Something flickers across his irises, something she can't make out. "You drive me absolutely crazy."
She doesn't know how to respond, so she keeps her mouth shut, her breath hitching as he grazes her lower lip with his thumb.
"I can't stop thinking about you and I hate it," he swallows, his Adams apple bobbing. "I hate it because there's so much that you don't know, so much I need to tell you but can't. I'm a coward, Teresa. I run away when things get too hard. You've witnessed it yourself. I shouldn't have gotten attached to you and Theo. You both are too good for a broken man like me."
His confession renders her speechless. There's so much she wants to tell him but the words die in her throat, so instead of saying anything, she steps forward and raises on her toes so she can bring their lips together.
He doesn't pull back like she expects him too. He simply pulls her closer until her breasts are pressed against his torso, sliding his tongue into her mouth and tangling it with hers.
Her taste is addicting. Everything about her is like a drug and he can't get enough. He knows he should push her away, leave her standing in the kitchen, and forget he's ever met her. But he also knows that's impossible. She's branded in his mind and even his heart, unable to be scraped off even with the sharpest of tools.
When the smallest of moans escapes her, she jumps away from him as if burned. She brings her fingers to her swollen lips, her eyes darting to the little boy watching cartoons just ten feet away.
As much as he adores Theo, he really wishes he was somewhere else at the moment so he could push Teresa against the wall and have his sinful ways with her until she's screaming his name. He doesn't know how much longer his pulsing cock can take.
"We're supposed to be talking right now," she reminds him, her cheeks turning the prettiest shade of rose.
"You were the one who kissed me," he points out.
Her embarrassed silence lets him know he's won this argument.
Smiling in triumph, he leans against the counter and folds his arms over his chest. The sight alone almost makes her knees buckle.
Slowly, though, the smile slips from his face. "Teresa, what I said before...I meant it. I'm no good for you. I'm not a good man."
Evan's face suddenly flashes in her mind and she quickly pushes it away. "Patrick, you are a good man. I can tell. Whatever it is that has made you hate yourself so much can't be as bad as you think."
"It can't?" He laughs haughtily, shaking his head. "You wouldn't want anything to do with me if you knew about the bad things I've done."
"It's in the past. All that matters is here and now. And what I see here, right now?" She pokes his chest. "I see a good man with a good heart. A man who cares deeply and helps when he can. A man that my child adores, and that's saying everything because he stays clear of literally everyone."
She pokes his chest again. "You. Are. A. Good. Man. Okay? And I'm not just saying that."
He doesn't believe her words, not fully, but the determined look on her face stops him from trying to argue. Even when frustrated she looks beautiful.
He's falling down a rabbit hole he can't climb out of.
Maybe he doesn't want to. Because looking at this woman now, her eyes huge and vulnerable, her expression stern...he can't imagine a world without her in it.
It's slowly killing him inside, the thought of never being good enough for her.
He remembers the exact date of when he fell in love with Angela. The day of the week, the year, the time of day— it was when she flashed him a blinding smile and a sundress swayed around her knees. They were on the beach, her barefoot skimming the sand. And he couldn't focus on anything but her.
But with Teresa? He doesn't have an exact date. He just thinks that maybe he's been in love with her ever since he's met her.
He's never believed in love at first sight. Hell, he's never believed in much. But her? She makes him believe in fucking everything.
He opens his mouth, the words he's been dying to say about to slip past his lips, but before he can express how he truly feels, the doorbell rings.
Teresa looks past him at the door, confusion blanketing her features. She obviously wasn't expecting anyone besides him.
He watches her exit the kitchen and make her way to the door, his body deflating like a balloon. He was so close to telling her. Perhaps now isn't the right time.
He peers into the living room as she opens the door. He doesn't expect to find a lumberjack-looking man standing on her porch, all muscle and a height of six four.
"Evan?" Teresa stares up at him, utterly confused.
Evan. Just the name makes Patrick's blood run cold.
"Teresa," he says curtly. Patrick's eyes dart to Theo on the couch. The boy is watching the interaction between his mother and father with shock and wariness in his green eyes.
"What are you doing here? You know you're not supposed to show up unannounced— "
He quickly cuts her off. "I'm tired of waiting, Teresa."
Her brows furrow. "Tired of waiting for what?"
"For you to stop being so dramatic," he snaps, making Teresa flinch.
Patrick inches closer into the living room, carefully making sure the large man doesn't notice him. Theo tears his eyes away from his parents and watches him instead, curiously.
"The hell are you talking about, Evan? Have you been drinking again? I thought— "
Interrupting her again, Evan sniffs a laugh. "Of course, you're going to play the victim. It's what you always do. No, I have not been fucking drinking. I've been rather patient with you lately, but it's now been days and you won't get your head out of your ass and be with me."
Teresa rears back as if she's just been slapped. And in a way, she has been. Because it turns out that Evan hasn't changed. He's still the same as always, and she feels like a fucking idiot for believing a man like him could ever better himself.
Men like him don't change. They simply get better at playing their games.
"So you've been lying?" She doesn't know why she asks; she knows the answer. It's as clear as day.
"Not lying," he grunts. "I want you, Teresa, can't you see that? I want you and Theo to be mine again. We can have a damn good life, you just want to be stubborn."
"You said you've changed," she argues, her throat already cramping up.
"I have!" He explodes. "I've tried everything to be good enough for you! I've apologized, I haven't touched you, I'm a good man. And I've done it all for you!"
Teresa just shakes her head. "No, you're not a good man. Theo doesn't want you and neither do I. Leave us alone."
"For fucks sake," Evan groans, running a hand through his tufts of dark hair. Patrick, who's been watching the scene closely, can tell he's seconds away from losing it. Though it seems like he already has. "Why can't you just forgive me? It's over and done with, it's been a damn year— "
"I will never forgive you for hitting me," she spits, her fists clenching at her sides. "And I most definitely will never forgive you for traumatizing Theo."
"I didn't do shit to him! Never touched the kid— "
"But you touched me," she interjects, "and that's bad enough."
Evan says nothing. His jaw is clenched, his eyes blazing. He's trying his hardest to control himself, to keep himself from laying a hand on her. But Patrick knows he's only trying to prove a point. He doesn't give two shits about Teresa—never has.
Deciding to reveal himself finally, he emerges into Evan's view and puts himself in front of Teresa protectively. "I suggest you leave before I make you regret ever coming here."
Evan stares at the shorter man and Patrick can tell he's confused. But the confusion is masked with rage immediately and he directs his fire to Teresa. "Who the fuck is this?"
"Don't speak to her that way," Patrick tries to keep his voice even, but he's dying to just land a harsh blow to the man's nose. "And who I am is none of your business. The question here is, why are you back here after Teresa has made it clear where she stands with you?"
Evan doesn't waste a beat. "Because she loves me, she's just too fucking stubborn to admit it. Doesn't matter if she's letting you fuck her now— she has and will always love me."
A wry grin finds its way to Patrick's lips. "Actually, I don't find that to be true. Because from what I can tell, she wants nothing to do with you, and Theo doesn't either. He hates you. Does it make you feel something, anything, to know that your own child despises you? A four year old child at that?"
"Theo doesn't hate me," Evan retorts. He even has the audacity to call to Theo on the couch. He suddenly loses the anger in his voice and replaces it with false softness. "You don't hate me, right buddy? I'm your dad. I love you more than anything. You know that, don't you?"
Theo doesn't respond. Both Teresa and Patrick can hear the answer hanging in the silence.
"Get off of my property," Teresa demands, shoving him backwards with all her strength. She's had to tackle a lot of men in her life because of her job but none of them had been as large and heavy as her ex-fiancè."And stay away from my son."
Evan barely budges.
From what Patrick can see most of the street has come out to see what the commotion is about, and Evan seems to notice it too because he huffs and steps back. "We're not done here."
"I think we are," the blonde replies, then shuts the door in his face.
It's abnormally quiet now, except for a cartoon softly blaring on the TV. Patrick turns his attention on Teresa. She's close to falling apart, he can see it in her eyes. The tears she's trying so hard not to let fall.
"I'm so fucking stupid," she croaks, and that's all it takes for him to engulf her in his arms and hug her tight, letting her cry into his shirt for as long as she needs to.
"You're not stupid," he murmurs, stroking her hair to soothe her, but that just seems to make her cry harder. "You're not, alright? He manipulated you. He's not worth your time nor tears. Don't let him ruin you again."
"He's not going to stop," she sniffs, her words broken because of her tears. "He's not going to stop until he gets what he wants. He's not."
"Well he's not getting you or Theo," he promises, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. "He can have whatever the hell else he wants, but I'm not letting him have you two."
"Why?" She lifts her head, her eyes all puffy and red and the sight makes his chest tighten.
"Why what?"
"Why haven't you gave up on me yet?" She chuckles humorlessly. "I mean, I'm a mess."
"Giving up on you is not an option," he states seriously. "And you're not a mess. You're human."
"But why?"
He inhales. Exhales. Looks into her eyes.
And he tells her the truth.
"Because I love you, Teresa."