Tara closes her eyes and takes in a shaky breath. A single tear rolls down her temple, disappearing into her brown hair before she has a chance to wipe it away. She covers her face with both hands, trying to stifle the sobs she is no longer able to hold in. She allows herself another moment to give in to the hurt, pain, and confusion, brought on once again by the ongoing inner turmoil of her heart versus her mind.

Wiping the last of her tears away, she takes a cleansing breath and then quickly sits up. She scoots off the kitchen table and stands, but feeling weak in the knees she hurriedly reaches back and braces herself on the table ledge until she finds her footing. Then she quickly zips and buttons her jeans, before wiping at her teary eyes once more time.

Tara hastily disappears into the bathroom, not wanting to risk him finding her where he's left her when he comes back, and locks the door behind her. Not wasting another second, she turns the shower on, strips out of her clothes, and steps inside before the water has even warmed up enough to be deemed comfortable. Gasping as the cold water hits her skin, but then she submerges completely under the stream anyways. The coolness seems to jolt her out of her stupor and clears her mind, and once the water begins to warm up she is able to get her breathing under control as well too.

While the water cascades down her body, she can't help but think back on everything that has happened since Friday afternoon, when Jax had appeared at her door as if nothing had ever happened. Every moment, every look, every word, and every touch they've shared since then is now replaying in her head on what seems like an infinite loop.

Here she is, not even forty-eight hours later and he's already managed to turn everything upside down and twist it up. Her routine, her mind, her heart ... and within the last hour her new relationship with John too.

She wonders temporarily how it is possible to not just loathe someone as she did in this very moment, but also love and lust so wholeheartedly after them in the exact same breath.

It seems like such a cruel joke to her, for all those emotions to co-exist alongside one another.

X

Tara climbs into bed, her muscles feeling achy with exhaustion, and tries her best to fall asleep. Trying to quiet down those voices -his voice- inside her head all the while wishing she could ignore the yearning she feels for him as well.

This isn't supposed to happen like this. He isn't supposed to just show up here after all these months and practically demand her to take him back.

He can't truly believe that it would be that easy, that she would be that easy. Was he really thinking that she'd just been sitting here, waiting and longing for him? And that she'd just greet him back in her life with open arms and back in her bed with open legs? Hell no!

A moment later she rolls onto her back in frustration. All she wants is some sleep. She needs some sleep. But she knows sleep will never come, not if she can't find a way to drown out his words in her head, and not if she can't find a way to deal with the still tingling of her skin where he'd touched her. Damn him!

I hate him!- She tries to tell herself, and almost wishes it would be true, because then she could truly move on from him. And then his words, his kiss, or his touch wouldn't mean anything to her at all anymore. She'd be able to shrug it off, shrug him off as if nothing had ever happened. As if he isn't still -and would probably always be- the love of her life!

I hate him! - Again, she tries the words out in her head as she unties her sweatpants and slips her hand inside. Her hand followed the same path his hand had taken earlier. She needs to sleep, and this is the only way she'll get any rest tonight. At least that's what she is trying to tell herself to justify her actions.

Tara bites her lip, successfully suppressing the moan forming in the back of her throat, while her own fingers slip back and forth over her wet folds and clitoris, all the while imagining they are his fingers instead. Damn him for still making me want him this much!

X

Tara groggily turns onto her left side and tries her best to get comfortable again, absentmindedly adjusting the position of the beige-colored pillow under her head, and tucking the comforter all the way up under her chin. She remains like that for a couple more minutes, trying to fall back asleep, but to no avail.

She blinks a few times, trying to adjust to the light that shines through the small slits in her bedroom blinds. Frustrated that she can't fall back asleep, she rolls back onto her back, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, before she reaches for her cell phone that lies charging on her nightstand beside her.

The time displayed on her cell phone screen reads one in the afternoon, and Tara has to do a double take before that actually sinks in, but when it does, she quickly pushes herself up into a sitting position and tries to gather her thoughts.

The previous couple of times when she had to work the weekend ER shift, the boys would spend the night at Mrs. Ellie's place, and she'd set her alarm for no later than nine, to head on over there to pick them up.

But since Jax had picked the boys up after he'd gotten home from his job hunt yesterday, she hadn't bothered to set an alarm. She'd simply assumed she'd be awakened by either Abel, Thomas, or the both of them together, demanding juice, breakfast, and early morning cartoons like they did pretty much every weekend.

She tries not to panic as she stands and slips into her gray robe, before she decides to find out why her apartment -which would normally be filled with giggles or cries of her children- is so oddly quiet. She briefly wonders if maybe Jax has taken the boys outside, and she can just picture Abel going on and on about the park with the playground just a block from their apartment building.

She wordlessly steps out of her bedroom, tying the robe closed around her, passing by the open bathroom door, and glancing inside, before she ventures the few steps further into the living room.

Toys are strewn across the carpeted floor, that hadn't been there the night before, and Tara steps over and around them like she's done countless times before as she's making her way through to the kitchen.

"Christ." She mutters under her breath when she takes in the sight in front of her.

Judging by the mess throughout the kitchen, Jax must've made lunch. There are pots and pans still sitting on the stove, and dirty plates, cups, napkins, and silverware still sitting on the table too. Macaroni and cheese are smeared across the surface of the table, and some have even fallen beneath the table as well. She spots a half-eaten chicken nugget on one of the chairs, and red -what she hopes- ketchup stains on the linoleum floor. Hey, look on the bright side: At least he fed them!

Okay, so they played in the living room, ate lunch, and left a mess in the kitchen, Tara wonders to herself. But where are they now?

She notices Jax's cell phone and keys still sitting on the kitchen counter, and as she glances back into the living room, she also notices the boys' shoes sitting on the floor and their jackets still hanging on the coat hooks next to the front door too.

Since her park theory is out of the question now, she finally manages to put two and two together in her still-sleepy mind, and turns on her heels to head back in the direction of the bedrooms.

She carefully turns the doorknob and pushes the door open, and just like she's predicted finds all three of them fast asleep for an afternoon nap in Abel's twin-sized bed.

Jax is lying bare-chested on his back in the middle, with a children's book left lying open across his stomach. Left and right of him, neatly tucked in the nook between Jax's strong arms and his torso, with their heads slightly perched up on his chest, are Abel and Thomas.

All three of them are fast asleep and look downright angelic, and Tara can't help but smile at the sight. Her heart just melts, and it takes everything she has not to take a few steps into the room, and climb into bed with the most important people in her life.

But for one, there isn't enough room, and two, she really doesn't want to accidentally wake them either -they simply look too peaceful to disturb-, and last but not least, she knows that climbing back into bed with Jax, even if their children are in it as well, would surely send the wrong message to him.

And so she reaches for the door handle, just about to back out of the room again, pulling the door shut with her, when a floorboard creaks under her shift in weight. She holds her breath as little Thomas stirs in his sleep, moving his body to the right, resting his little forehead against Jax's bicep now instead, and in doing so her youngest exposes the left side of his father's chest.

That's when Tara sees it and freezes in place. Shocked, with her mouth open, she just stands there, gaping at her very own name spelled out on Jax's chest in the same old English font and big, black letters like the tattooed names of their sons, -Tara!

She is baffled, shaking her head to herself in disbelief, because she must be dreaming. When had he done this? And most importantly, why?

Tara stares at it for another long minute, just because she can, but when she feels tears start welling up in her eyes, she finally tiptoes out of the room and quietly closes the door behind her.

If she's being honest with herself, she'll admit that for a moment she truly wanted to walk over to him and run her fingers across the letters, feeling the slightly raised flesh of the newly inked skin beneath her fingertips. But ... so yeah, because of that she had to get the hell out of there before she did any of those things and made yet a fool of herself again, like she had done last night.

Instead, she goes back to the kitchen, and begins cleaning up the mess that Jax and the boys have left behind. Carefully, methodically, and most of all very quietly, since she's nowhere near ready to face him just yet.

She also had the thought that if she could only keep herself busy, it would help distract her from ... well, him, but truthfully it doesn't seem to help at all.

Her mind just keeps going back to the tattoo, and she finds herself imagining different scenarios that could possibly explain what possessed Jax to go and get her name permanently inked into his skin. But none of them make sense. None of them ring true! Why would he do something so incredibly stupid? Why?

An ugly thought crosses her mind. Could this possibly just be some sort of ploy to get her back? Some sort of plea for her to take him back, just because he has eternally marked himself for her? With her name! Forever! Ugh! The Jax she knows wouldn't be stupid enough to think that that would work on her? Or would he?

But damn it, and damn him, because it did work ... a little at least. After all, here she is on her hands and knees, scrubbing dried-on ketchup off of the kitchen floor and all she can do is picture him in the tattoo parlor.

Her imagination runs wild, and she can practically hear the buzzing of the ink-supplying needle as it penetrates his pale skin, and can just picture the way he clenches his jaw on the rare occasion when it actually stings, yet forces a smile on his face a moment later.

He'd be sitting there bare-chested, the guy asking him who this Tara is and him proudly answering that she is his old lady.

She can just picture it playing out like that, and as much as she tries to fight those feelings that stir up in her because of it, as much as she wants to hate it, she doesn't ... she simply can't.

It's her name proudly displayed on his chest, ... and she loves it!

Suddenly her mind goes back to a conversation she's had with him, prior to her getting his crow tattooed onto her lower back. How she'd naively asked him if he'd get something to represent their bond too, something that told the world he was hers as much as she was his.

But Jax had been quick to explain that it didn't work like that. The reaper on his back meant he belonged to SAMCRO, and the crow on her back meant she belonged to him.

That was their bond. And that's how it worked.

So naturally, she goes right back to wondering what has since changed his mind, and what it is supposed to mean? How is she supposed to react if he'd walk in here without his shirt on? What is she supposed to do?

It is right there, on his left pec, right in her face, and pretending that she doesn't see it if he walks in here right now is simply out of the question.

Tara gets up off the floor with a frustrated groan, but undeterred stows the cleaning supplies back under the sink again, making sure the child-proof lock clicks back in place, and at last finishes loading and starting the dishwasher.

She takes one last look around the kitchen, checking if she's missed anything that still needs cleaning, but relieved not to find anything.

However, her eyes fall onto the pile of black buttons sitting on the kitchen counter, and she realizes that Jax must've picked them up off the floor either last night or sometime this morning. Her cheeks involuntarily flush when her mind drifts back to the events of last night yet again.

She needs to clear her mind, needs to get out of the apartment, and be away from him for a little while. She needs some time to think, but she also needs to clear her conscience somehow, and so she turns and heads back to her bedroom before she can talk herself out of it.

Sitting on her unmade bed, she knows what she has to do. Everything that has happened with Jax is just eating at her, and there is nothing she can do about any of it ... except for one thing.

With trembling hands she picks up her phone and sends a text to John, asking him if she can come over to his place to see him today.

She could just picture his surprise considering she'd told him in the past that her Sundays are reserved for spending time with her boys, but at the same time has no doubt that he'll be more than willing to meet with her, even on such short notice. So without even waiting for his reply, Tara begins looking for just the right outfit, trying on a few different ones, before finally settling on a nice pair of jeans and the cute top he's complimented her on before.

She has just finished brushing out her hair, and is in the process of applying just a tad of makeup, when her phone vibrates on her nightstand, indicating that she's gotten a new text. She quickly picked it up and read John's reply. 'On a Sunday? I feel honored. I'm home, come over any time. Can't wait to see you, honey.'

Tara swallows the lump in her throat, feeling like she's going to be sick.

He is so blissfully oblivious about the heartbreak she is about to inflict on him, and she already hates herself for it. But the guilt about what has happened, and what almost happened with Jax last night is eating her up inside, and she knows she has no choice but to tell him the truth.

X

"I want Juice." Thomas babbles out loud, poking at his father's cheek with his little finger in an attempt to not only wake him, but actually gain his attention.

Jax stirs and slowly opens his eyes, but with his arms still around his boys, he's got no free hand to even swipe his hair out of his face, and instead finds himself just sleepily looking from the son on his right to the son on his left.

"I'm thirsty too." Abel chimes in, before climbing out of bed and looking over his shoulder at his younger brother. "Come on, Tommy."

Thomas climbs over his father to get out of bed, and scurries away after Abel, trying his best to catch up with him.

That's when Jax finally props himself up onto one elbow, and starts rubbing the sleep from his eyes with his other hand, but has the sense to yell after them. "Hold up, boys, don't make more of a mess."

Jax can't stifle the big yawn when he finally hoists himself up off the low sitting bed and groggily follows his sons out of the room. But upon leaving the boys' bedroom, he notices Tara's slightly ajar bedroom door, and he stops to tentatively knock. "Babe?" He asks after getting no reply, and on a whim pushes it further open to curiously peek inside.

The first thing he notices is the still lingering smell of her perfume in the air. He loves that smell. It's flowery, sweet even, and it subtly compliments Tara's natural scent, ... the complete opposite of his mother's sense-overwhelming choice of fragrance.

He is surprised that her bed is still unmade, which is very unlike her, and he also notes the different sets of tops and jeans haphazardly thrown onto the bed. The pile of clothing is reminiscent of a teenage version of her and the indecisiveness in her choice of outfit at that younger age. The sight makes him raise his eyebrows in hopeful surprise, and leaves him wondering if she's made the extra effort because he's here.

However, his attention is quickly brought back to the boys when he hears the distinct sound of a chair getting dragged across the kitchen floor, along with the boys' chatter, and he hurries to follow the source of the noises into the kitchen.

Jax makes it into the kitchen just in time to stop Abel from climbing onto the kitchen counter, grabbing him before he can complete his task. "What do you think you're doing, son?"

"I'm getting a cup," Abel replies as if there is nothing to it, and Jax places the child safely back onto the ground.

"No, you're not." He scolds the boys, playfully, and pushes the chair right back to the table where it belongs, taking notice that Tara has apparently taken it upon herself to clean up after them, while they'd been napping the afternoon away.

The boys settle into their chairs, waiting patiently for the glasses of milk their father is pouring for them, and cheer out in delight when he piles a couple of cookies onto a plate for them to go with it.

When the boys dig in, he turns back toward the counter, and is just about to reach for his phone to call her and find out where she's at, when he notices the small notepad wedged up beside it instead.

A message from her scribbled on it. 'Had to run an errand. I'll be back soon. - T'

Frustrated, he tosses the notepad back onto the counter and runs a hand through his long hair, brushing it out of his face, before mindlessly running his finger over the small scab that had formed on the left side of his lower lip.

He's instantly irked when all the puzzle pieces fall into place. Remembering the way she denied him the night before, coupled with her indecisiveness of what to wear and the smell of perfume in the air, he's now got a pretty good idea just what kind of 'errand' she is running. And the thought that she is with that other guy makes his blood boil once again.

He watches his boys dip their chocolate chip cookies into their milk, and finds himself envious of them for the naive innocence they still possess.

With a frustrated sigh, he shakes his head to himself, trying to shake away the images of her and that guy from his mind. Jesus Christ, how did we get here? What is happening to them, to her and him? There is just no fixing anything as long as there is a third person in the mix. How the fuck is he supposed to compete with some guy in the shadows?

Clearly, Jax's at a disadvantage here, since she refused to even tell him the other man's name. Cause she knows what you'd do,- the little voice inside his mind speaks up, adding to his anger.

He has held back as much as he could. Sure, he'd said some hurtful shit last night, but overall he'd tried relentlessly to contain most of his anger to avoid pushing her further away. Further into that guy's arms.

Yet every fiber in his being now tells him he needs to pull her aside, pin her down, and make her talk. Find out once and for all who this motherfucker is and then handle it the only way he truly knows how. The Club way. The SAMCRO way.

The only thing holding him back is the knowledge that 'the Club way' has never worked out well when it comes to anything concerning Tara.

He just needs to talk to her, and had actually hoped that once she woke up, they could put a cartoon on for the boys and try once again to talk everything through. But now she is already gone, and the more he relives what was said and done last night, the more he hates just how fucked up they've left things between them.

X

Jax's head turns instantly toward the entrance when he hears the front door opening, and despite his anger, he's also relieved to see Tara step inside. They exchange an awkward nod in greeting, but neither of them even so much as mutters a 'Hi'.

"Mommy." Abel shrieks excitedly, but doesn't leave his position on the living room floor by the coffee table.

"Mama." Thomas blurts out just as excitedly as his older brother, and unlike Abel, he quickly scrambles to his feet to run into his mother's arms.

Tara hugs him, and kisses the top of his head. "I missed you guys so much. What're you guys doing?"

"We're coloring, Mom," Abel answers and holds up his partially colored paper in the air, as if the colored pencils and crayons scattered across the small table aren't already a dead giveaway to their current activity. It makes Tara smile.

Thomas pulls his mother further into the room, wanting to show off his art and she wordlessly complies, eager to spend some time with her boys like she usually does on Sundays.

Jax's eyes are on her, she can feel them as she kneels on the floor between her boys, shrugging out of her light jacket, and takes her time admiring all the different pictures her boys have been busy drawing in her absence. There's a sweet smile on her face, that doesn't really reach her eyes though, as she tries her best to listen to her boys explain all the different things they'd drawn.

Her shoulders feel tense under Jax's scrutinizing gaze on her every move, but for right now she refuses to meet his eyes, because her head is such a mess.

The moment she walked through that door and laid eyes on him, everything she'd thought about on her drive home just now has vanished all over again, and instead, her mind went back to last night. Not just what had happened in the kitchen, but everything they'd talked about as well.

"Daddy needs to talk to Mommy for a minute." Jax startles her out of her thoughts with the oddly familiar sentence.

It catapults her back in time to the day she got out of county, and she finally looks up at him in surprise.

The boys don't seem to mind, and Jax doesn't waste another second, standing from his seat on the couch, while his eyes are never leaving hers, imploring her to go along with it.

"Okay." She nods in agreement, and gets up off the floor to follow him wordlessly into the kitchen. Her face shows just how unsure she feels about what he'll dare try to discuss with the boys right here to possibly overhear.

Stiffly, Tara leans against the kitchen counter and folds her arms, trying her best to shake the shirtless image of him, with her name on his chest, from her mind.

Standing right across from her, perched up on the edge of the kitchen table, he scratches the side of his beard, trying to act casual when he asks with an unmistakable bite to his voice. "Finished running all your errands?"

"I guess." She shrugs her shoulders, and smiles awkwardly back at him, because she's got no idea why he seems downright angry with her at this very moment.

An awkward silence fills the room for a long moment as they both seem lost in thought, and lost for words. From his position at the table, he is able to see the boys in the living room. His gaze drifts to them for a couple of seconds before pushing himself off of the table and stepping closer to her, out of view of his sons.

He can see how her shoulders tense even more the closer he gets, but it doesn't deter him in the least. Stopping right in front of her, he reaches up, his palms and fingers gently cupping around her upper arms, soothingly sliding up and down in an attempt to get her to relax a little. What's with this damn tension between them anyways? It shouldn't be this hard to talk.

"Babe?" He says looking right at her and she meets his questioning stare, before he leans in even further and whispers. "What is happening to us? What the fuck are we doing, Tara?"

She holds his gaze for as long as she can stomach, but when the tears start welling up in her eyes again, she lowers her head and looks away. Her voice is sounding so high and is breaking as she shakes her head, whispering back. "I don't know."

X

Author's Note: I hope you like this enough to leave me a couple of words. Thank you for reading!