Chapter 11: Options

A/N: I absolutely liveeee for y'all's reviews lmao. I just love how invested y'all are in this and it makes me feel confident about my writing. I'm still trying to decide what timeline on which this fic occurs or if it's on an alternate one. In addition, I'm going to start making the chapters longer just like this one, y'all deserve it.


The multicolored painting within the waiting room of the doctor office waiting room holds your attention for an inordinate amount of the time like it does every time you visit. Sitting in the room was sometimes stressful for a lot of people but not you. You're used to looking at padded chairs and large windows letting in daylight as well as the small TV mounted on the wall in the corner playing a rerun of Judge Judy at low volume. You didn't expect to wait long since you'd made an appointment in advance. To your relief, the office isn't too busy seeing that you're the only person in the waiting room. You didn't start making your own doctor's appointments until you were about twenty, having relied on your mother from such adult responsibilities.

As your eyes briefly roamed over an issue of Better Homes and Gardens, you wondered if the excruciating pain in your temple is enough to raise concerns on your end. They're definitely out of the ordinary for you. Still you wanted to get checked out, seeing as you were the type to google your symptoms and think you were dying. One time you were thirteen, you swore up and down that you'd had breast cancer because a certain part of your underarm felt too hard. Unquestionably, one of the most embarrassing times in your life that you hated to think about but that didn't stop you from doing it nonetheless. What can you say - you're dramatic like that. You didn't think the headaches were too serious but it didn't hurt to get them checked out.

Your anxiety is off the charts lately and you're not sure how to navigate around it this time. Between no school, no job, and the situation with a stone-faced hitman whom you hadn't seen - you were due for a stress overload pretty soon. Being this out of sorts for a man whom you did not have a commitment with was ludicrous. It didn't make sense. In the wake of the incident, you took the time to focus on yourself more and not put too much thought into anyone else but yourself but it's easier said than done. Was it possible that you could be entitled to compensation for this shit?

With all the moping you'd been doing, you're surprised your mother hadn't asked what was wrong. This morning, you could tell that she surely wanted to with her robe on and coffee mug in hand over the breakfast table. She's usually tuned into your moods enough to know if something was wrong. But to your surprise, she said nothing and you can't explain how relieved you felt about that. Unfortunately, you won't get the reassurance you truly want at this point in time and who knows how long it'll be till then.

The door by the front desk opens to admit a short, middle aged black woman in scrubs. Her name is Ms. Joyce and she wore her signature polite smile you'd come to be familiar with.

"Come on back baby." She urged.

You'd been coming to this doctor's office since you were a teenager and was well-acquainted with all the other staff. Most of which consisted of older black women that knew or went to school with your parents. The air of comfortability around them was unparalleled and true bonds with the women had been established over the years. They treated you like their own and you honestly loved the feeling. Older black women just had that hospitable warmness about them. And it is for this reason that they often didn't worry about maintaining an uncomfortable level of professionalism with you.

You gave her a shy smile in return. "Yes ma'am."

"How's your mama doing?"

"Oh she's doing good." You admitted.

She turned her head to look at you while you both walked down the long hallway, passing many rooms along the way. "And your daddy? He still firing up that grill?"

"Yes ma'am. Seems like every day." You nodded.

The woman let out a hearty laugh. "I knew he was. Tell him that me and James want a pulled pork sandwich and some ribs. We gon come by and get some."

"Okay. I'll let him know."

Ms Joyce led you to an examination room you'd been in before and you took a seat on the bedding. "Alright now, Ms. Stella will be in here to see you in just a moment."

"Okay." You muttered as she shut the door softly behind her, lapsing the brightly-lit room in silence. You resisted the urge to rifle through the cabinets, the fear of getting caught doing so kept you sitting stiffly on the exam bed. The wax paper you're sitting on made too much sound even with minimal movement, so you chose to keep still and scroll through your phone and shoot a few messages to the group chat.

A solid five minutes pass until the doctor comes scrolling in cheerfully. "Hey there my girl! I wasn't expecting to see you so soon. What made you come see me so early?"

You sighed, slouching a bit from your stiff position. "I've been having these terrible headaches that just show up randomly. And they're just so bad. I've been taking some over the counter medicine like ibuprofen to curb it but it doesn't really do much."

"Are they like a really bad headache or a migraine?"

"A migraine." You answered.

She scribbled down some notes on a clipboard. "I see."

"And these headaches aren't normal for you?"

"No not really."

The woman nodded, a small strand of hair falling out of her neat bun. "I see. And how often do you keep up with them?"

"All the time. They show up probably every other day."

"Do they make you feel nauseated? Weak?"

You nodded.

"Alrighty then...let's see what the problem is."

They went through the normal series of tests - blood pressure and heart rate examinations. You sat calmly through every one. "I don't think we need to do any blood work. In fact, I think I know exactly what the problem is-"

Sitting up straighter, you let her know that she had your full attention.

"Have you experienced any life changes? Under any pressure lately?" She delves.

You took a moment to consider her words. "Yeah, I would say I have."

"As I thought. Based on the pattern I'd say it's a cluster migraine. You might be straining yourself too much. I've seen this in other patients as well."

"I'm still going to prescribe you some medication but my advice would be to relax."

"If it worsens be sure to give me a call."

"Okay."

"And another thing, looking at your chart I noticed that your implant expires in about six days. Do you want to reschedule another appointment to have it removed and another re-implanted? Or..."

Your face lit up with subtle embarrassment. "Yes ma'am."

She chuckled and scribbled down some more writing on a chart. "Alright which day works for you?"

"Um...I can come in any day." You uttered.

"Okay, I'll pencil you down for Tuesday at eleven. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good."

Alright, here's your prescription." She holds you a small paper. "You're free to go sweetheart...and tell your folks I said hey."

You slid off the bed, took the paper and shook her hand. "I will. Thank you."

"You're welcome. See you next week."

You left the office feeling slightly better than when you arrived. Your prescription would be ready in about an hour so you'd linger in the area around the local pharmacy. Waiting out the duration in your car wouldn't be a problem so long as you passed the time by looking in your phone. Checking your email you came across a message from the Dean - apparently, Professor Thomas was relieved from his position following the investigation. Smiling, you could find some satisfaction in knowing that he wouldn't get away with his dealings. It's what he deserved.


"Should I get the enchilada or the quesadilla?" Jasmine asked as she canvased the large menu.

"Get whichever you have a taste for. I got my heart set on tamales." Alexis declares.

Everyone is sitting at the table going over the food selection on the menus.

"The hell is a pambazos?" You asked, brows furrowed at the menu. "You know what. I'll just settle on a taco and some yellow rice. I don't know what's going on with this menu." You don't really eat much Mexican food unless it's from a food truck. They make the best food for some reason.

The high pitch rhythm of Mexican music up ahead had you moving your shoulders to the beat as you looked around the place. Tre suggested they come to the restaurant seeing as it was one of his favorite places to eat. Regardless, you wouldn't skip out on the chance to go out with friends. Even as you try to immerse yourself into your surroundings, your mind feels as if it's everywhere but in the present.

"Tre what you getting?"

"Hold on, I'm looking at the drinks." He replied, flipping through the small beverage menu provided on the table.

"I know your bladder is screaming for some water."

Tre and Alexis had too many damn friends that kept them in the loop about most things. If anything important was going on in the city, there are among the first to know about it. Jasmine liked to call them messy bitches though.

"Girl stop playing with me. My bladder and yours is on the same shit. We both alcoholics."

"You could've never thought!" Alexis says as she picks up her phone. After a brief look, she rolls her eyes, sucks her teeth, and places the phone facedown on the table.

"Girl you know you wanna talk to that man." Jasmine chides.

"Talk to who? Pj?" You enquire, leaning in to be nosey.

"Yeah they into it right now. Lex calls herself not talking to him but I know she's sneaking a text every now and then."

Alexis gives her a look. "Ain't."

You and Tre look at each other with a knowing expression. "What happened?"

"Okay look...this is what happened." The woman waves a hand in the air. "So the day we met at yo man's house -"

Jumping slightly in your seat, you turned a disapproving look to your friend. "That's not my man. I'm tired of telling yo ass this."

"Girl be quiet. We don't wanna hear that. So anyway -"

"Oh so y'all went to the house. Hell I wanna go too!" Tre claims, really offended.

"They weren't even supposed to come!"

"Girl fuck you. You invited us." Jasmine vocalizes.

"Be quiet. Let me finish telling the story!" Alexis shrieks and the table drops into silence once more so she can continue telling her dramatic recollection. "Anyway...that night he came to my apartment. Keep in mind that I haven't seen this man all day and we barely even texted. He comes in, gets in the shower and leaves his phone on the nightstand. So with me knowing the passcode, I just decided to look in the phone - you know scroll down his feed and all that. A picture of his ex pops up, that's not surprising since I already know they were still friends on social media or whatever so I really didn't bother me."

"I can't believe that." You say. "I thought you might've skinned them both alive."

"I'm working on myself. That's nothing but growth."

"Gotta be."

"Shittt Cassandra would've told me to block all my old hoes." Tre mentions.

"As she should. You know you're a whore."

"Jas! Now Tre ain't no hoe, I don't believe that." You say.

Tre's brows come up and a goofy smile finds his face. "Girl I been a hoe since 2012. The only thing that's changed is that I'm a retired hoe now."

"How are you retired?"

"I mean I'm still slinging peen, I just sling it on Cassandra."

"I respect you for that friend." Alexis encourages.

You shook your head at his admission. Your friends are full-on characters.

"Now back to what I was saying. I didn't really trip over that, like as long as nothing was still going on between them I would tolerate it. Fast forward to three days later. We're on the couch, laid up watching tv. I'm laying on him, he's on his phone. Now I wasn't really paying attention to him on his phone like I usually do. He goes to the search bar and I see her name there like he typed it in. At this point, I'm feeling some type of way. I'm like why is her name in your search bar? Then he was trying hard to blow it off as nothing but I'm like clearly it is something. Long story short, we fought and I put his ass out my house."

"Why you always trying to fight that man? Now when he beat yo ass…"

"Domestic violence." Jasmine laughs, sounding eerily like Yung Miami.

"He do too much. Men folk annoy me. If he thinks I'm stupid then he can think again. Cause a bitch like me will go knock on her door and ask."

"When you do go, let me know I wanna come." Jasmine says.

"Me too."

You laugh because there's no way you can't with friends like these. Once the food and drinks come out everyone settles into chatting and eating.

"Jasmine what's up with you?"

"Nothing. I don't have a man and I don't want one."

"Terrance still must be in the picture."

"You know he is."

"Okay imma need y'all to not, we haven't spoken in two months. It's over."

"That's what you say…"

The waiter comes to take orders and collect menus and the conversation shifts over onto someone else.

"And what about you sugar baby? I haven't forgotten about you."

Pointedly ignoring the sugar baby comment that would open a can of worms, you smiled and kept your attention elsewhere. "I'm good." You replied, sitting stiffly.

"I know you good, rolling around in that nice ass car."

"It's alright." You were trying to minimize conversation as much as possible to steer the attention from you. John wasn't a topic you wanted to think about or discuss. Showing them how miserable you'd been would serve no purpose - it was better than agonizing over the unknown and things you can't change or have little to no control over. When you could, you tried not to tell your friends about the blows men dealt you because when you eventually forgive the men, your friends typically don't and that leads to a horde of other problems.

"You going to the mall with us after this?" Tre wonders.

"I can't. I paid my mama to help me take down my braids today."

After that exchange, there wasn't much energy to prattle along with them, so you listened for the rest of the outing.


One of Tyler Perry's nineteen movies about a black woman going through it was playing on the tv and you ignored it as best as you could in your position. You're sitting on the living room floor between your mother's legs as he helps you cut and take down your box braids and you feel like your eight again. Frankly, you could've taken them down by yourself but it would've taken you much longer and you aren't on that kind of time. Your hair is due to come in the mail in a day or two and you couldn't be more eager. That hair better be good quality or you are kicking Alexis' ass.

Three days have passed and the two of you still haven't had any contact - it's tough because you knew in your gut that he was home. For you, it was a mystery why he hadn't felt the need to reach out. Surely you aren't that childish, knowing full well that remaining in contact worked aa a two-way street. Just as he could pick up the phone, you could as well and it was only sheer stubbornness on your part that prevented that. You definitely weren't stewing in your feelings as much but you still weren't over it either. Now you were in this weird headspace of not wanting him to call and desperately needing him to. To be put in a position like this is concerning enough; it made you feel weak. The lack of response from him was really getting to you but your pride wouldn't let up. Had it not been for that, you would probably be at his house right now.

Dropping by under the pretense of checking up on his dog but nearly four days have passed since you'd seen him leaving the hotel. So that excuse wouldn't work. Although you still had a bag of clothes and possessions at his place that you desperately wanted to retrieve. That was cause for you to make an appearance right? The fact that you were thinking like you were said something. You can't deny that this man had you doing a 180 in terms of characteristic behavior, actions, and feelings. It took you a while to stop prolonging the feeling by replaying the scenario in your mind.

Though it's not logical to go by hypotheticals and assumptions you needed a second opinion; some clarification before you lose it. And you had to be realistic if you wanted answers. You hesitated, silently wondering if you really wanted to poise the hypothetical situation that's exclusively reminiscent of your situation to your intuitive mother and possibly risk exposing yourself in the process. This could probably give you some guidance or this could be the worst decision you ever made.

"Ma...can I ask your opinion on something?"

"Mmhm." She answers.

"I have this friend and she's been seeing this guy for a little bit. They're not in a relationship or anything but she really really likes him. Recently, she saw him leaving a hotel with one of his colleagues."

"A colleague?"

"Yeah, she works with him I guess."

"And this friend...who is she?" She's too nosey for her own good.

"You don't know her."

"Uh huh" She's clearly skeptical but she doesn't question you on it any further. "Okay, go on."

You start up again without interruption. "According to my friend, they looked mighty closer than actual colleagues. Now I have to note that the friend has asked him about the woman before."

"And what did he say?"

"He said that there was nothing going on."

She grabs a new braid and cuts the end. "It could be a misunderstanding."

Your brows furrowed in confusion. "What makes you say that?"

"Just hear me out before you say anything."

Her words grated on your ragged nerves but you were listening attentively to everything she had to say especially since you specifically asked. "Okay."

"Let me start by saying this...your friend is completely in the wrong. Not only is she wrong, but she might be jumping the gun a little too soon. The main reason being that they're not together, meaning that she can't get mad at him for potentially being with other women. That's his right as a single man. If he wants to go out and see others he can. Now with the feelings situation, I'd advise that she tell him how she feels. And if he doesn't feel the same then she should move on to someone else. It might be disappointing but it's the best course of action."

You considered your words carefully though none of it made you feel any better. She was absolutely right. And though you were loath to admit it, you had been going about this in the wrong way from the very beginning.

"But her and the guy are really close. Aren't her feelings justified?"

"They are. But they're not an item therefore those kinds of feelings are null and void until the relationship changes. It's also possible that this friend is still in denial about being wrong since they came too much about being right. Usually when we get to that stage, we'd rather die than admit that we were wrong all along. Plus, what she saw and what was taking place might be two different things. I wouldn't tell you something I didn't think was right. Tell your friend she has to get over herself."

You don't even know at this point.

"Now all of this is just my opinion. Remember you asked for it." Your mother insisted.

Nodding in understanding, you lapse into an uncomfortable silence, the low drone of the tv and sniping of scissors is all that you can hear over alongside your thoughts.

So evidently you're in the wrong? The notion is entirely plausible given the context. You went searching for trouble and found it. Just goes to show that when you go looking for something you shouldn't. You'll eventually find it and more. The more in his case being something you're not equipped to handle. You hadn't expected to find what you did. Even now, it's hard as fuck to ignore the sting of pain in your chest every time you thought back to that night three days ago. And him not contacting you was the icing on the cake.

You didn't generally give men the opportunity to disappoint you and you hate having to question his intentions with you. Your brain had a hard time processing things you didn't understand - that's the real issue.

"Alright I'm done." Your mother announces with a tried sigh and you slowly stand. "Pay me my money and go home. I'm tired of you eating up all our food. You got food at your apartment."

"Imma tell daddy you kicked me out the house."

"What yo daddy gon do to me?"

Your head feels less heavy, not being weighed down by bundles of hair and when you scratch your scalp it feels like heaven. Almost like when you stick a Q-tip in your ear. The long part is done now it's time for the wash. You gather a bag filled with all of your hair products - shampoo, conditioner, oils, and leave-in conditioner before venturing to the upstairs bathroom. Stepping foot outside of the house with a great big mess on top of your head is not the move. After a good washing, you'd be on your merry little way.

While you fall into the familiar routine of washing and rinsing your hair, gears are turning in your head the whole time. Things have been difficult for you - not seeing him knowing you feel like you feel. Another day cannot pass by like this. This has been gnawing on your conscience for too long. Now it's time to do something about it. You come to the realization that you're tired. So very very tired.

You needed to find your didn't need this right now - Don't have any reason to go through the motions like you are. The real you would never be phased by shit like this and you felt like a lapse in judgment is causing things to turn out the way that were. Expressing your emotions wasn't hard in any sense of the word, you just didn't know how to go about it in this particular situation. You have to be more of an adult about this.

Before you could do anything, you have to come to terms with every possibility. Having mulled over every possible option, you eventually settled on facing him. You would just get it over with, if not to see where the two of you currently stood. Mustering up the courage wasn't all that hard since your mother had unknowingly empowered you through her words and honesty. The decision was marginally better than waiting things out until you ultimately pulled your hair out by the roots. At the very least, you could put the situation at rest and give you peace of mind. You couldn't avoid him forever - can't stomach the thought of never speaking to him again.

After distributing a fair amount of leave-in conditioner into your hair, you wrapped a band around it to keep it up so it could air dry on its own and looked at yourself in the foggy mirror. Wearing your natural hair accentuated your baby face and you weren't sure how you felt about it. Throwing on a thin hoodie, leggings, and ugg boots you then headed towards the door.

"Bye ma!" You yelled just before shutting the door and heading to your car. Once inside you cranked up the heat on full blast to knock out the chill, pulling out your phone to type a message.

I'm coming over. - You

You waited a few moments as the text sent and couldn't quite squash the small feeling of regret associated with sending risky messages like this. Only when the phone vibrated a minute later did you feel any semblance of relief.

Okay. - John.

A massive pressure was left off your shoulder seeing the message - him providing a response was a good sign. A simple conversation can clear up a lot of childish misunderstanding. This was it. The time of reckoning is now.


Standing there at his front door had never given you so much anxiety as it did now. It feels like you're standing at a crossroads. Lucky for you, it wasn't one of the more freezing cold days outside. The door opens abruptly and you're chilled faster than the swirled air circulating outside.

He looked like his normal self - clad in a white shirt that hugged his chest and blue jeans. To see him again after a while felt nice. Your stomach is doing flips. What you planned to accomplish by purposely avoiding him, you'd never know. Stepping aside, he allows you entrance into his residence to which you oblige. In the midst of everything, the dog happily trails over to greet you. Sweetface kept extremely close to you, completely dismissing his owner in favor of your attention. Admittedly, you missed the pouch and you bent down to give him a generous petting. You came with the steel resolve of getting your things, saying what you had to say and leaving.

John's gaze shifts over your face then to your hair pulled into a big, curly pineapple at the top of your head. Though you're anxious to have his hands on you again, you wisely kept your distance. Intimacy isn't why you came here.

Without a word of greeting, something that was very out of character, you began a somewhat confident stride to the intricate winding stairs, wordlessly ascending them towards the bedroom. Once in the room, you set about gathering your clothes and other possessions, placing them within your overnight bag. Moving with a sort of robotism, not at all in a hurried manner that you would expect.

You blink down at the bag for a moment before something enters your peripheral vision. And your heart nearly stops when you finally noticed John standing in the bedroom's doorway, watching you place your things in the overnight bag. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. The stance brought attention to his broad shoulders and toned arms. You didn't even hear him coming up the stairs, that's how quiet he was. His posturing had your thoughts shifting into other territory - territory that wasn't right for that moment.

No words were spoken and the anticipation left you practically breathless.

You can do this. You can do this.

"Milaya?" You perked up at the word that's clearly associated with you since he only used it while in your vicinity. Hearing his low baritone is enough to bring your body back to life. If not for the circumstances you might've wanted things to go another way. But you remind yourself that there's a time and a place for certain things. Satisfying sexual desires isn't encouraged at this point in time no matter how much your body ached for him.

"I guess you want to talk about the dog bow ties?" You laugh, if only to distract from your nervousness.

He deliberately let you into his complex, secretive life. A hardened man. The reality of it made it all the more complicated. Therefore it was wholly unrealistic for the two of you to not talk about it.

"Before we do that, tell me why you were at the Continental three days ago." A gun could've been placed to your temple with the way you froze. The straightforward question stops you right in your tracks.

How stupid did you have to be not to realize that a seasoned killer who hunted and killed for a living wouldn't be able to spot out a car that he'd purchased a short while ago. Due to his job, he goes away periodically with no true expectancy time. For all you know, he probably caught sight of you the moment he stepped out of the building. Turns out that you'd severely underestimated him in that aspect.

And now he's asking you why you felt the need to show up at a place he frequented without consulting him. You simply don't do shit like that to a trained assassin. In the moment, you didn't contemplate what your actions entailed and the consequences they would bring. Something tells you that you're in trouble and suddenly you want to run and hide.

Despite being a man of few words. John is way too forward and blunt not to voice any concerns he had. The fact that he'd known this whole time was jarring.

"Do you really need to know why? Is it really that important?" Your cheeks are colored with embarrassment. You weren't expecting him to be so direct about it. Tiptoeing around the issue is impossible for you and you very nearly crumpled under his rapt attention. His expression had the capacity to turn the sun into a giant block of ice - it was haunting. Though at the same time, it effectively sent bolts of heat into your stomach. His gaze hardens and it tells you that he's deadly serious.

Your attempt at downplaying the incident was having no visible effect on John, whose apathetic countenance was still set firmly in place. It's so out of character and unnatural for you to try and downplay anything. You could try and downplay the circumstances but you aren't able to downplay how you felt about it. The feeling is eating you alive.

"So I'm caught?"

"Yeah."

Knowing better than to try and bullshit your way out of this, you still bid time to craft a solid answer. You're not sure how this is going to play out. He told you once before that wouldn't tolerate you lying to him. You try not to be irrational but it was a little too late for that.

"Your explanation...I'm waiting." John pressed, an air of suspicious lightly coating his even tone. He didn't raise his voice once, nor did it hint at any irritation or anger. You expected no less from his quiet, reserved nature.

The tension was skyrocketing to unbearable heights. With every growing second you're feeling more antsy. This was feeling more and more like an interrogation - like you were being put on trial for your transgressions. You honestly don't want him to know that you trip over him like you do. With an unspoken tension between the two of you, there was no telling where the conversation was headed.

The hitman suddenly comes to tower over you, the heat wafting off his body welcoming after weeks of not having any physical interaction. You resist the urge to close the remaining distance and press against his broad frame. Your body wanted to act on the impulses but your mind is in another place entirely. He was calmly awaiting your answer, waiting to see what it would be.

Your thoughts aren't filtering the way you want them to, causing a jumbled mess in the recesses of your mind. On top of that, you overthink over the simplest, most insignificant things. What the fuck are you going to say?

The air is suffocating. "John...I...I want to -" You weren't prepared for this like you thought you were.

He was probably questioning your intentions and he was entitled to. Going to the Continental Hotel was a big no-no for him and you respect the rule for you not to go there. A boundary had been crossed and it can't be overlooked. If a man like him instructs you not to do something then you should probably, in all likelihood listen. By going there you put your family and friends in potential danger. The wrong person would have caught sight of you. It didn't matter that he'd brought you there before, that was under covert, differing circumstances. And only a handful of people actually saw you leave.

A hand came up to caress the side of your face and air escaped your lungs as you quickly melted into the touch.

Your heart lurches at the thought of confessing love for him. Theoretically, you could do it - spew the words out in an unfiltered, uncontrolled attempt to let him know how you feel before anxiety had the chance to get in the way. Only you weren't supposed to love him. Sticking to the upspoken agreement of sex every now and then with no complications. Any deviation from that was off-limits. He lives by a strict code that he doesn't deviate from.

You're expected to remain hidden, unnoticed - for the remainder of what they had going. No one in his clouded, blood stained world was supposed to know you existed. A man like him didn't have the need for something like love in his profession. You could never voice what you felt for him, regardless of how platonic the situationship is in your eyes. Not being capable of defining those feelings to him is the biggest upset.

"You were gone...for so long that I got worried. And you didn't call, you didn't text. I thought that something might have happened to you. So I went to the only place I thought you could be. When I got there, I saw - I saw you - I saw the both of you leaving together so I assumed."

A tiny glimmer of surprise passed over his face before it disappeared like it was never there. The tense silence stretched on a thin cord.

John studies your face with his indecipherable stoic gaze, seeing the emotion that you tried and failed to conceal. You can't gauge whether he's upset or not. While he doesn't angrily chastise you when he's well within his rights to do so, you still wished he didn't make you feel like an abashed child.

"I assume you avoided me out of anger and jealousy." He'd already accused you of jealousy once before and he was right on the money. He knows you better than you know him.

Casting your eyes to the floor in shame you nodded. "Yeah."

His facial expression remains the same the entire time. "While I'm honored that you feel the need to check on my well being. You must never venture to the continental again. If you wish to get into contact with me just call and I will get back with you as soon as I'm able."

You give a small nod.

"On the subject of Perkins...do you doubt that I was being truthful?"

"I don't doubt anything about you. I trust you - I don't trust her." This is the second time you'd mentioned Perkins to him. The fact that you have beef with a female assassin over a man is wild in itself and you think you know how it's gotten to this point. Not that knowing made it any better. Technically, what he does outside of you has nothing to do with you. Though you think that saying something like that isn't exactly fair to yourself but it's the truth.

"I'm not angry with you."

"Well, you should be." You shrug.

His eyes soften. "Why vilify you for acting on emotion? You're human it's expected. I can't hold anything against you for that."

"It's more to it than that."

"What do you mean?"

You rehearsed this so many times in your mind but the act of carrying it out was draining.

Words couldn't find themselves leaving your mouth fast enough and you froze up like a deer in the headlights when he regarded you more intensely than before. For some reason you can't quite read him this time. Your heart is pounding loudly against your ribcage and you shouldn't be stressing like you are but it's evitable.

Sweetface watched the two of you, shifting nervously as if he could sense the charged tension in the room.

"While you were gone, I found out that I'm extremely committed to this." You motioned to the space between your bodies. "To you. I came to tell you that if there's something going on between you two then it needed to stop, but then I had to realize that...that I have no legitimate claim over you. Despite how deeply I feel for you."

His form develops an unnatural stillness, arms positioned stiffly at his sides. Almost like he needed a moment to absorb the statement.

"...But given our situation, any description of feelings would be detrimental."

"I mean...if you both are lovers then there's still nothing I can do about that." You said it like you were trying to convince yourself that you didn't care either way but you can't lie to yourself like you want to. "I'm not trying to blow it out of proportion or anything. I'm just saying what I feel."

"I was totally out of line. And then to accuse you when we're not even…" You quickly cut yourself off. "I won't do it again."

A pause in conversation made you look at him. You'd avoided his stare up until that point. He's still watching you intently, listening.

"Lately, I've been feeling crazy as hell. Like I'm losing too much of myself and I don't like this person I'm becoming. And then I had to deal with these really debilitating headaches. I know I shouldn't be acting like this."

John switches from curious to protective in an instant, hand tilting your head to the side to inspect you closely.

You sighed inwardly, this is one of the reasons you couldn't be upset with this man. All it takes is for him to touch you and you became putty in his hands to mold into whatever he wished. Their connection was motivated by pure, genuine desire. You're hopelessly attached to him with no foreseeable end in sight. Causal relationships don't always stay casual. That's generally the reality of life. But John messed you up, completely ruined you to the point where you're doing things like this and thinking it was somewhat justified. God...you wanted to give in.

"I have to - I want to do this...so I can feel better about me and the choices I make." You didn't like how cold and withdrawn your voice sounded, not indicative of the storm raging inside you. "I wanna take some time to pull together."

He looked blind-sighted by your words. "Have I not assured you that Perkins and I are not involved?"

"You did, but that's not exactly the point behind why I'm doing this."

"That's not necessary."

"It is for me...I just need to reevaluate some things."

You figure a person like him will be fine with it; he won't be as affected by the decision as you are. Still that didn't negate the fact that you left this happen by letting yourself fall for him without considering the ramifications. And it was because of those that you both weren't suitable for each other. As a consequence, you've placed yourself in a hard position. What's the moral, ethical way to respond to something like this?

Your low voices seemed to echo loudly in the ambience of the room.

"I'm not doing this because of you. I'm doing it because of me." For a moment, you feared how he'd take the explanation. The words are already like blades cutting into your soul and you can't imagine how he might feel hearing them pass through your lips. He didn't even know where this was coming from - hell you barely knew where it was coming from. The assertive, nonsense approach had him slightly taken aback.

"And you'll go through with this no matter what I say?"

Your head lowered at the question.

"And this reflection...how long will it take?"

The corner of your mouth drew upward, brows pulled together. "I don't know." You whispered. Despite how unsure your voice sounded, you need him to know that everything is fine. It's crucial that he understands the purpose behind your decision.

"If that's what you want to do."

With that, you looked up to him, meeting his chocolate gaze head on. In those warm brown eyes, you saw the unconcealed emotion - the concern, the confusion, the hurt. And it all makes you feel unquestionably guilty. Suddenly, you're disgusted. Disgusted that you're treating him this way. The explanation felt cruel despite its honesty and accountability.

Your actions showed a possessive tendency and the truth of it was that you were feeling clingy and insecure but it wasn't your place to be doing pop-ups on him especially while he worked.

Truthfully, you don't think you'll ever get over your physical need for him. You relied on him too heavily on him to make you feel good and that's where the issue stems from. You had nobody to blame but yourself - you wanted to be able to feel good on your own. Your creating problems that didn't need to exist, almost like sabotage. Everything isn't always about you and your refusal to acknowledge that it's ruining everything.

"Everything in my life feels off and I can't...I just can't. We just need some time away from each other so I can get myself together. That's all."

The silence that followed is nothing short of devastating.

Having failed to appease him with words, you slowly leaned in to brush your lips across his before pausing halfway through the gesture to recoil and pull back at the last second. Water clouded your vision as you slid past him, bag in hand. If the dam broke in his presence then you were sure that you'd be fucked.

A whine drew your attention, the dog stood behind you, head hanging low with sad eyes. At the sight, you can't help but think that he's expecting you to stay and it breaks your heart that that is not the case at all.

"I know. I know I'm sorry." Was all you could utter before you promptly fled out the door to your car. Once inside, your eyes shut momentarily as your head dropped against the steering wheel. "Dammit."

Had you known your actions would come back to bite you like this then you never would've gone there in the first place.

You needed to get out of here.


The bathtub is filled to the brim with hot water, bubbles, and good smelling essential oils. The result is a therapeutic atmosphere, one that was greatly needed. You even lit a few candles with a soft playlist to keep you from getting too lost within your thoughts. You've had enough of that for once. The newly recovered bag of clothes sat on the floor in the living room of your apartment untouched and unpacked. The only thing you can focus on is soothing your aching heart.

Beyoncé's rendition of 'I'd Rather Go Blind' comes on the shuffle and you're immediately switching the song. As much as you loved her, you can't bear to listen to that song in your current state. With that done, you sank even lower in the tub until bubbles were practically up to your chin.

You're mentally exhausted. You were tired of feeling broken up and you wanted better for yourself and your situation. You valued him enough to give him some space, pursue your own interests, and maintain your life outside of him. All of your options were exhausted. Putting yourself first is something that doesn't happen often but you felt like it was essential in this case. This would work out. It had to.

Three days was too long to immerse yourself in sadness and now it was time to re-up.

Now it's different from when you were bartending and he stepped into the bar months ago - when you didn't know each other from a can of paint. It's wild to see how much life has changed since then. You clamped your lips together tightly.

Against your better judgement, your mind still did what it wanted - lingering on an issue you thought was already decided. The encounter with John put multiple things into perspective, the main one being - a break was absolutely necessary. And you're using the term break loosely. Technically, him being away for so long can count as a break but this time it was on your own terms. That made it glaringly clear but you were too stubborn to admit it.

You don't think people understand just how scary it is when people can just up and turn your life upside down - regardless of who you are and what you've done for them. Even if you're on good terms. They can just leave and never speak to you again. Distance is fine but disloyalty is not. The sad thing was you could not force anyone to do right by you and up until this point you hadn't liked how life was treating you. Until now, you didn't realize just how much of your time you spent occupying his space. He's on your mind damn near everyday.

In the beginning, it was easy to let things happen organically. With the factor of another woman being thrown in the equation, everything sorta fell apart. But the thing about that is the fact that you both were having sex with strings attached. One thing is for certain, you'd broken the unspoken rule of keeping the relationship strictly about sex. They established a whole fucking routine. Lots of domestic things were going on at the same time. What role did you play in his life beyond that?

You two slept together on a near regular basis, you confided in him, he gave you a car because you were upset. There's the issue of time spent together outside of sex as well. All of this adds into something - an emotional connection. Becoming something that's dangerously personal. Where did the lines begin to blur?

Honestly, you should've known better. You fell for this emotionally unavailable man and got your heart all mixed up. With a career like his, he can't afford to break routine - everything was always on the line. For that reason alone, you need to take a step back from this for a while. Doing what's best for you shouldn't feel bad.

At first, you were angry at him but now you don't know if you ever should've been.

Closing your eyes, you fought against the feeling. Once more, you have to remind yourself that this isn't a reflection of your self-worth even though he's made you more vulnerable in more ways than one.

John Wick didn't exactly strike you as a man who had time for juvenile antics like the one you pulled. You trust him and apparently he trusts you to a certain extent but is that enough?

Sex wasn't going to magically fix everything. You really didn't want the relationship to dissolve into nothing on account of your actions. In order to do better by him, you needed to do better by yourself.

Notwithstanding the actuality that the relationship was hardly dysfunctional, when insecurity gets excessive that's when the problem starts. It's not healthy for you or John. It's not his job to soothe any self-doubt that you felt every now and then. You can't always lean on him for reassurance, can't be too emotionally dependent on him. It's not fair. He can't be your only source of happiness.

You wondered what could you ever be to him? Was a specific title needed to specify the relationship of convenience.

The question is - were you willing to to deny yourself in order to preserve the secret relationship between the two of you. From the start, the relationship was never meant for anything to beyond sex so why in the hell did you have to fall for him like an idiot. You shouldn't have caught feelings for him in the first place. It hurt to think that your feelings weren't being reciprocated. John is not your significant other and his heart was probably closed off completely. And this put you in an awkward predicament. Admitting that you've gotten too comfortable with him is easy.

You can't control other people's actions and how they feel. Jasmine is pursuing a degree in psychology, so maybe she could help you figure this shit out.

The talk had definitely dissipated the worry that actively drowned you for days. The whole situation had been messing with you.

Suppression of feelings was for your sake and some time apart would do them both good. You took a deep breath, only now are you beginning to actually believe the words. At the present, you're feeling oddly more liberated than you already are. Finding a new focus remained the priority.


A/N: One thing about me...imma sneak a Beyoncé reference in I don't care. This is only the start, next chapter we're getting into some things okay!