Warning: Smut!
X
"I'll tell you everything when I get home, I promise," Jax promises out loud, instead of actually answering her question about how he's doing, leaving her wondering if he's okay after his showdown with Gemma, or not.
"Okay." Tara sighs again, conceding when she realizes she won't get more of an answer out of him over the phone, but then pleads with him a moment later. "Text me when you leave, please. So I know you're on your way. I love you."
"I will. I love you too." Jax replies this time without any hesitance, much to Tara's relief.
"Bye, baby." She coos into the phone.
"See you soon, Babe." She hears Jax reply before the line goes dead a few seconds later.
Tara sighs once more, then quickly puts her phone back down on her desk, and looks up to meet Christy's eyes who has been watching her like a hawk throughout this entire conversation.
"It worked." Tara finally says, confirming it out loud even though she's sure Christy should've caught the gist of it already. "She confessed."
"Wow, thank God." Christy practically jumps up from her seat on the other side of Tara's desk and comes around to her side, pulling her out of her chair, into her arms, and hugging her tightly.
And it's in that moment of physical comfort from her friend that the dam finally breaks, and all the anxiety she's carried around with her all day long, while waiting for Jax's call, spills out of her in big drops of tears that are streaking down her face, leaving unflattering lines of mascara in their paths. But it's so much more than that, it's everything they've been through, it's the lingering ugliness of all the revelations she and Jax have shared over the last couple of weeks, but above all, it's her own self-loathing thoughts at the part she played in all of it that is becoming more insistent every day, demanding to be dealt with on her part.
When Tara begins to sob, Christy tries to pull away to look at her, but it's Tara now that's holding onto her for dear life, which Christy quickly reciprocates again too. So they stand like this for a long couple of minutes in Tara's office, hugging and holding each other, Christy trying to soothe and comfort her, while Tara tries her best to get her emotions back in check, which is easier said than done.
Eventually, Tara's hold on her friend lets up, and she pulls away, reaching for some tissues on her desk, wiping at her nose and her tear-streaked face with shaking hands.
"Jesus Christ, you're shaking." Christy points out, looking Tara over with new concern in her scrutinizing gaze, and ushers her friend back toward her chair. "Sit."
Tara lets out a heavy sigh when she sits back down, taking several shaky breaths after to calm herself, avoiding Christy's curious stare for as long as she possibly can, but at last, finally looks up to meet her eyes. "I'm alright, I swear."
"Are you though?" Christy wonders out loud, moving a stack of patient files to the middle of Tara's desk so she can take a seat on it.
Tara swipes her fingertips beneath her eyes once more, trying to wipe away any remaining mascara smudge even while she nods her head to appease her friend. "I am." She lets out another heavy sigh, and looks up to meet Christy's eyes yet again, holding her gaze this time unwavering. "There's just been a lot on my mind, you know?"
"About the trial? And your mother-in-law?" Christy questions out loud.
"Among other things." Tara clarifies.
"Like what?" Christy can't help but blurt out, curious what else could be plaguing her friend now, since things had been going so well for Jax and her lately.
Tara shakes her head, looking away again, fidgeting with the feather pendant of her necklace, not even sure what to say now, how to explain her own inner demons she's been battling with ever since Jax showed back up at her doorsteps last year.
"Spill it." Christy urges demandingly, and even goes so far as to cup Tara's jaw in her hand to force her old friend to meet her eyes again. "Is it about the baby? The move? Him going back alone? What is it? You know you can talk to me, right?"
Tara closes her eyes, shaking her head a little again, then takes a big sobering breath to gather her thoughts, but her words still come out scrambled. "It's some of that, ... but ... but it's mostly about me, I think." She gestures to herself with her hand when she finally meets Christy's eyes again. "It's just Club stuff, ... I wish I could tell you, but I just can't. It's complicated, you know?"
"No, I actually don't know." Christy deadpans, frowning at the concern edged into Tara's facial features, so she slips off of the desk and reaches for her phone in the pocket of her lab coat, already beginning to send out several texts to set the plan she's just come up with in motion. She stands there, waiting for a few seconds for the replies, and when her phone buzzes repeatedly a few moments later, she shoots Tara a content little smile. "What you need is some girl time. So let's pick up Thomas and drop him off with Mrs. Ellie, and then you and I head over to Claire's for a girl's night, how does that sound?" She holds up her hand to silence Tara before she can protest. "Nu-hu, I don't wanna hear it. It's already arranged, Mrs. Ellie agreed to watch the boys, and Claire's having her mother-in-law keep her boys for the night, so don't even try to argue, you obviously need this."
"I'm not good company right now." Tara tries to protest anyway, watching Christy shake her head at her.
"That's the point, baby. Something's clearly weighing on you, and we haven't had a girl's night since your hot hubby showed back up at your door, so this has been long overdue. Also, it's not all about you, I could really use a little female input with this whole wedding planning stuff too, because Jason seems to have no opinion on anything ... at all. I mean, planning your wedding shouldn't make you wanna strangle your fiancée, right?"
At that, Tara can't help but crack the smallest of smiles, even when she shakes her head in agreement. "No, it shouldn't."
"Alright." Christy pulls Tara out of her chair, grabs her phone off the desk and her purse off of the file cabinet to the side, and practically shoves them into Tara's arms before she can even get another word out. "Let's go. Chop, chop. We only have a couple hours before Mister Teller's gonna want you all to himself again."
X
Claire, Christy, and Tara sit on big oversized throw pillows in front of the fireplace at Claire's house, sipping on mugs of hot chocolate, after Tara had - reluctantly, yet finally - shared the news of her pregnancy with Claire too, mostly to shut down the petite little blonde's insistence to have mixed drinks instead.
Over mountains of Chinese take-out containers, they talk about everything under the sun, sharing how everyone met their significant other, the ups and downs of their relationships, their mothers-in-law, their exes, work, life, kids, and how to balance it all, or how they feel they're failing at balancing it all, Christy's upcoming wedding, and so on and so forth. Some discussions bring tears of laughter to their faces, and some bring tears of sorrow instead.
But when Claire suddenly asks if she and Jax are planning to find out what they're having or if they want it to be a surprise, some of that self-loathing Tara's been carrying around with her bubbles to the surface instantly, even as she blasters on a small smile to hide her inner turmoil. "We'll probably find out. Because of the baby's predisposition to the heart defect that runs in Jax's side of the family, we'll have more frequent ultrasounds, so ... yeah, I'm sure we'll find out soon enough."
"Finding out the sex is so exciting, isn't it?" Claire wonders out loud, sounding cheerful when she says. "Are you hoping for a girl this time? Or do you not care?" But before Tara even gets a chance to think how to answer that, Claire quickly adds. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I love my boys more than anything, but I'd be lying if I said we hadn't hoped for the little one to be a girl, well, ... at first anyways, obviously once we knew he was a boy we were happy about that too. You know what I mean, right?"
"Yeah, I get it," Tara replies, but both Christy and Claire can sense the change in Tara's mood, yet neither knows what to make of it when Tara just smiles again, but the smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Jax is hoping for a girl, I'm ... I don't know, I'll be happy either way." She lies, not wanting to get into it right now. Not when there's so much she can't talk about, not with the two of them anyway. They'd never understand. They just couldn't.
A phone ringing interrupts the moment when Christy realizes it's her ringtone, and she quickly gets up to answer it. "Sorry, I gotta take this." She says while she gestures to the phone in her hand before she leaves the room altogether, Claire and Tara watch after her retrieving form until she's out of sight.
The silence only lasts a few seconds before Claire seems to be unable to hold her tongue any longer. "Listen, Tara, I'm not sure how much Jax has shared about Greg and me, and our past, but if you ever need to talk to someone that really understands what it was like, someone that's been part of that life too, I'm here for you."
Tara nods her head, and remembers that Jax had said Greg used to belong to a gang too, and that he and Claire had split up for a while until he finally got out himself, but she still feels more than reluctant to divulge her worries so openly just yet.
Claire glances over her shoulder, in the direction of the kitchen where Christy has disappeared to, before she turns her attention back to Tara and even though she's courteous enough to lower her voice to a whisper, she still doesn't sugarcoat it when she asks to point blank. "Are you worried about him being there without you? Getting tempted, fucking around on you again?"
Tara's taken aback by Claire's bluntness for just a second, but not in a bad way, she's not offended, she just hadn't anticipated it, but now that the question is out there, Tara doesn't have to think twice before she answers it. "No, I'm not worried about that at all. I trust him." She sighs as the words leave her lips and the painful memories bombard her for a second, but her statement holds true, she does trust Jax in that regard wholeheartedly again, even though it surely hasn't been easy to get to this point. "We fought so hard to get where we are now, to build that trust back up, there's no way he would throw that away. I'm sure of it."
Claire nods her head in understanding. "Good, because I was just about to tell you the same thing in case you were worried. After all the times he's confided in Greg how he wishes he could take it all back, there's no way in hell he'd ever fuck around on you again."
At that, Tara actually smiles, feeling validated for just a moment despite her trust, but the smile is short-lived because Claire speaks up again, and reminds her that there is in fact something on her mind. "Well, if that's not it, then what is worrying you?"
Claire glances over her shoulder again, making sure Christy's not back yet. "Look, Christy's great, she seems like a really good friend, I have some friends I made at work too, but the truth is that there's stuff that they'd never understand, things that I can't confide in them. The things we dealt with, put up with, ..." Claire shakes her head to herself for a moment, thinking back on her own struggles, before she carries on. "I mean, when Greg cheated on me and I left him, it tore my world apart, but I barely confided in anyone about all the other things that preceded the cheating, because I didn't want to be judged for sticking around for as long as I had. It's hard to explain that stuff to someone who hasn't lived through it, who hasn't tried to make it work with someone like my Greg or your Jax, someone submerged in that kind of life, you know?"
God, don't I know it! - Tara wonders to herself, but their conversation gets interrupted again when Christy walks back in. "Shit, so sorry, girls, but that was the hospital." She starts to pack up her things in her purse, before she adds. "I guess it's a good thing we didn't get plastered after all, 'cause I gotta go back in for an emergency surgery."
Tara jumps up instantly, searching Christy's face. "Do you need me to come?"
"No, no, there's nothing you can do." Christy shakes her head in reply, but then quickly leans in, hugging Tara and then hugging Claire too. "We'll do this again after Tara pops that kid out, with real drinks next time." She turns, waving over her shoulder on her way toward the front door. "You girls carry on without me, I'll see myself out."
And a few seconds later they hear the front door fall shut and silence fills the house once more, until Claire can't help but chuckle. "Jesus Christ, girl, if that wasn't a sign that you and I should talk, then I don't know what is."
Tara can't help but chuckle along, because it does seem like it, and without much further coaxing on Claire's part, they both begin to share their real stories with each other on how they came to be where they are today. The similarities are both startling, some even bringing tears to their eyes as they retell them, but in a way, they're also strangely comforting knowing that others have escaped the life and managed to make it work against all the odds that were stacked against them.
So now Tara was finally getting to the crux of the matter that's been bothering her as of late, ever since Jax has been insisting that the little person she's currently growing inside of her is undoubtedly a little girl. "Let me ask you something."
"Fire away, shoot," Claire replies, but then chuckles. "Sorry, bad choice of words."
Tara grins too, glad that they've gotten to the point that they could joke like this. "You know Jax really is hoping for a little girl, and on one hand, deep down somewhere I think I do want that too, but on the other hand I just keep wondering how ... how can I raise a little girl into a strong woman without feeling like a complete hypocrite? So I keep telling him that I'd much rather have another boy, just because I'm not sure that I'll know how to be a good mom to her. I mean, if I knew that some guy put her through even half the shit Jax has put me through, I'm not sure what I'd do to him." She pauses and sighs. "I'm not crazy, am I?"
"Crazy for sticking it out with him? Or crazy for thinking the way you do?" Claire tries to clarify Tara's question.
"Both, I guess," Tara answers truthfully, taking a sip of the virgin margarita Claire has now made for her.
"You're not crazy," Claire states with such conviction that it sounds like a fact, not just an assumption on her part. "Through all that bad shit, you loved Jax, and you still do, and the fact that it wasn't for nothing, that you're both here now, making it work, proves that you're not crazy. You knew that the man you fell in love with was still in there, you knew that despite all the ways he's hurt you, deep down he loves you more than anything, so no ... you're not crazy." She gestures to herself, then back at Tara. "We weren't crazy for standing by our men for as long as we did, because we did it out of love, nor were we crazy when we walked away so that they would finally come to realize what they loved most too."
Claire takes another sip of her own drink, before adding. "You know, people think that the strongest relationships are those of two people who never ever do each other wrong. They fall in love, everything comes easy for them, and they're devoted and faithful, ... blah, blah, blah, ... there's no drama, no heartache, and they live happily ever after. And maybe that's true for some, I don't know, ... but personally, I don't believe that. I believe the strongest couples are the ones that had the worst things happen to them, things that should've torn them apart, but in the end, love prevailed, and they found their way back to each other. Think about it for a minute? Who's to say this nauseatingly perfect fucking couple wouldn't grumble at the first sign of real trouble? I'm talking about the kind of trouble we faced. I mean, let's get real, maybe he never looked at another woman, but would he take a bullet for her? Would he die for her? Pfff, please, they wouldn't know what hit them if they'd gone through what we've gone through, and you know it. But Greg and I, ... and Jax and you, we've been through hell and back, and it might've not been pretty, it might've hurt so much you wanted to rip your own heart out at times to make it stop, but it happened, and we're still here. We persevered, and that makes us a hundred times stronger than Hallmark's Ken and Barbie."
"I know what you're saying, I do, and don't get me wrong, Jax and I are probably the happiest we've ever been, to be honest, we're solid, but ... but the further along I get in this pregnancy, the more I find myself struggling to reconcile with the choices I've made, you know? Jax might've done some awful things, but I'm not innocent. So what I'm losing sleep over these days isn't about what he did, but rather what I did, or didn't do, because I stayed, and I let that happen. I stuck around in situations that I would undoubtedly tell my own daughter to walk away from. So what does that make me? What do I tell my girl, if she's getting hurt by some guy?" Tara wonders out loud, resting her hand protectively against her still invisible baby bump.
Claire shakes her head. "You can't think like that. You can't continue feeling guilty about things of the past, things you can't change, and at some point, you gotta let go. I read this quote once that said, forgiveness can't change what has happened, but it can definitely change what will be. And I think that's so true."
"I have forgiven him," Tara interjects.
"Not him, honey. I'm talking about you. You have to forgive yourself too." Claire explains. "Trust me, I'm talking from personal experience here." She throws Tara a sad smile, before she carries on. "And also, you'll drive yourself insane if you start worrying about all those what-ifs that might never even happen. Life is here, right now, this. And no matter what it looks like, it's all we've got. You've made some mistakes along the way, we all did, but that doesn't make you crazy or a hypocrite, or unfit to raise a little girl, it just makes you human, Tara. So you have to let go of those regrets, and just raise this baby, boy or girl, as best as you can."
At that, Tara can't stop the tears from welling up in her eyes any more than she can stop them from rolling down her cheeks a moment later. Claire puts down her drink and wraps Tara into her arms, consoling her as best as she can. Tara welcomes the embrace, and then realizes that Claire is right, because for the first time she's allowing herself to acknowledge the fact that even now, after all the pain and death and heartbreak they've been through, she'd still make the same choices if she knew it would lead her to the life she is sharing with Jax now.
Eventually, Tara's sobs die down again, and she wipes at her face, chuckling a little in embarrassment when Claire hands her a box of tissues. "This pregnancy is really kicking my ass."
"Sure, blame it on the baby." Claire teases, grinning, and is rewarded with an actual little laugh from Tara this time, despite the tears.
"Listen." Claire starts again, watching Tara as she's still wiping at her eyes and nose. "If your mother-in-law takes this plea deal, then the worst will finally be behind you guys, and you can move into that beautiful new house together, and get ready for this new little person to come into your lives. And wouldn't it just be the best feeling in the world if you could do all of that, without that lingering guilt weighing you down along the way?"
"I know." Tara sniffles, contemplating everything that Claire has said, and nodding her head in agreement, acknowledging that Claire is right, that she needs to find a way to forgive herself for the role she played in all of this, in the life she'd shared with Jax back in Charming, and then repeats. "I know, I have to figure out how to deal with it somehow. I mean, I've been in therapy dealing with what happened to me, but these other things … I can't share any of that with a therapist." Tara sighs, "So I'm just not exactly sure how yet." She adds next as an afterthought, because acknowledging that you need to forgive yourself is just the first step, actually getting there, and doing it, that feels like a whole staircase to conquer.
"Want some advice? Wanna know how I did it?" Claire asks, then sips on her drink again while she watches Tara just nod her head.
"You're right. You and I, we can't just go to a shrink and bare it all, not the whole truth anyways, so I scoured the library for ... well, anything, really, and after reading way too many books to count, I sort of adapted my own little theory, or ritual, ... or whatever you wanna call it."
Tara curiously raises her eyebrows, but before she can speak up and ask Claire what she means by that, she's already elaborating. "Have you ever heard of Carl Jung?"
"Yeah, I think so." Tara tries to think, and muses out loud in reply. "Philosopher, right?"
"Yeah, ... among other things. He had this primary theory, that we all have a shadow self. A part of us that's so ugly, that we try to keep it hidden away from the world. The problem is, the more we ignore it, the unhappier it becomes. And for me, personally, my guilt over what I allowed to happen, to me, to my kids, that was my biggest shadow. It was my biggest struggle I had to get through before I could even consider the idea of letting Greg back into our lives, and giving us another chance."
"Okay," Tara replies, sounding a little skeptical, but instinctual she can't help but think that this shadow self sounds a whole lot like the darkness, or dark side she and Jax have spent countless times discussing during their own reconciliation. And then she can't help but think back on the night Joshua died, because as terrified as she's been that night, the real struggle she was faced with afterward was with herself and the knowledge that she should feel bad, most normal people would, but deep down she really didn't. It was without a doubt the first time her own dark side started to show.
And that makes her instantly wonder what she's supposed to do with that? How knowing that will help her move on from everything that has happened since?
But before she can voice those questions in her head out loud, Claire is beating her to the punch once again when she carries on undeterred. "So, I owned that. I owned that ugly part of me that I was ashamed of, that shadow I didn't want people to know about, and then, ... then I took a page out of another self-help book that I read, and I wrote it all down. I bared my fucking soul on those pages, wrote down everything I felt guilty about, you know? I took inventory of everything that was holding me back."
"And then?" Tara interjects, clearly a little intrigued now, but also suddenly wondering if Jax had it right all along with the journaling he's been doing.
"Then I burned it," Claire announces like it's the most logical conclusion, and raises her glass to her lips, draining the last of her drink with one gulp.
"You burned it?" Tara asks, her eyebrows raised to her hairline now, disbelief written all over her face as she studies Claire's expression to see if she's joking. It can't possibly be that easy?
"Don't look at me like that, ... I'm not some kind of kook." Claire chastises her even though she's smiling, then adds in self-defense. "I'm not crazy, I swear. I just followed the advice from one of those books."
"And the book said burn it?" Tara asks, shaking her head a little at the idea.
"Well, not exactly, but it's what worked for me. The book said, to uncover the truth, write it down, then own it, acknowledge it, and then you let it go. Uncover, discover, discard."
"Discard?" Tara repeats.
"Yes. You get rid of it. For good." Claire explains, then begins to pour herself another drink from the pitcher she's brought from the kitchen, and adds with a little smirk. "And at the time, I decided to discard it all into my mother-in-law's fireplace, just sitting there, sipping away on a double of Greg's favorite overpriced whiskey while I watched the pages of my sins burn away, and then, ... then I cried like a goddamn baby, but it was one of those good cries, you know? The kind where you let it all out and actually feel better after. When I was with Greg, in that life, I was just expected to be strong all the time, and I guess I got real good at that, at just keeping it all in, and I hadn't realized how much I truly needed a good cry until that night." She raises her glass up to her lips again, but before she takes a sip she holds Tara's clearly intrigued stare and says. "I'm telling you, honey, it worked for me. I mean, aren't you sick of carrying all that shit around with you? Other than your guilt, what do you have to lose?"
"You're right." Tara nods after a moment to really think it all over, agreeing despite her earlier doubt, because Claire is right, she has nothing to lose but her guilt. "I'll try it." She meets Claire's eyes again over the rim of her fancy glass she's about to take a sip from, and then smirks when she wonders out loud. "Any other advice you feel like sharing?"
"Yes," Claire announces with a deadpan expression. "Get yourself a really good S&P 500 index fund. Trust me, you'll thank me later."
"I'll look into that," Tara replies, and they both let out a chuckle at that, raising their glasses and clinking them together before taking a drink at last.
X
Tara stares at the stack of notepads her lawyer had returned to her for a long moment, before she makes up her mind, takes a seat at the dining table, and quickly sorts them in chronological order before she begins to read through all of her ordeals again.
It takes her quite some time to get through them all, but she finally puts the last pad down, staring at them again in disbelief, and her heart is aching after she's just relived through everything in her own words.
Then her mind inadvertently goes back to a conversation she's had with Ally Lowen in the kitchen of the former Teller home.
- Did you go through the pads?
Yes. They are, uh, very ... very thorough. And terrifying.
- You know, some of that stuff ... I let it happen, I stayed. Doesn't that implicate me?
No, this isn't about criminality. It's about a culture of violence. If you do need to serve time we have to establish that Jax and his association with the Club were a danger to your boys. He is not a viable guardian. But the things you wrote down won't indict you or him of any crimes.
- Okay.
We still have to contend with Gemma. Grandmothers pushing for custody make a compelling case.
- That's not gonna happen.
Tara closes her eyes at the emotions that memory evokes, remembering how desperate and helpless she'd felt at that moment, not knowing yet that it would get even worse before it got better. She hides her face behind her hands as she takes a sobering breath, but for the first time today, she actually manages to fight off the urge to cry. Not yet, - She tells herself, steeling herself against the onslaught of feelings, and then reaches for the empty notepad and pen instead. And so she begins to confess the rest of it all, everything she hadn't written down for Lowen, and the guilt she held onto: Joshua's death, not telling Jax about the letters from Maureen, her guilt over Opie's death, the beating she gave Carla, and of course every little thing that happened after she got released out of County. She's scribbling away in a rush to get it all out and over with now.
X
Tara peeks inside the boys' bedroom one last time, listening to their deep even breathing, ensuring that they are truly asleep, before she quietly closes their bedroom door behind her again.
She hurriedly pulls on her shoes, her heavy jacket, and one of Jax's beanies to keep warm, before she grabs the baby monitor and the stack of notebooks and steps out into the hallway, quietly locking the front door of the apartment behind her too.
Despite her eagerness to finally do this, she tries not to wake the whole building, taking quiet unhurried steps, as she makes her way up the two flights of stairs and through the still ongoing construction site, to get to the communal patio area most of the residents use for smoking.
A blast of cold air greets her the moment she sets foot outside, making her tighten her jacket around herself for a moment before she actually zips it all the way, while she takes everything in, trying to decide what would serve best as a make-shift burn pit to cast away the sins of her so-called shadow-self.
She puts the notepads down on the patio table, weighing it all down with the heavy oversized ashtray and the baby monitor before the wind can carry away even a single page, and then she gets straight to work.
It isn't easy, but after several tries she manages to lift the unsightly, and extremely heavy, plastic flower pot, still filled with dirt and the wilted remains of what used to bloom within, out of the bigger stone pot. She cringes at the horrid scraping sound that disrupts the quiet night when she drags the even heavier stone planter across the cement floor of the patio toward the middle and away from everything, because the last thing she wants to do is accidentally cause the building to catch on fire too. Better safe than sorry.
The logical, practical, doctor side of hers wonders for a moment if she's truly lost her goddamn mind now, but since that logical and practical part of her hadn't exactly helped her in most of those scenarios she's written about in those pads either she carries on, squashes away her last remaining doubt, because she wants and needs this - by some miracle - to work, regardless of how ridiculous the notion might seem. And so she fishes the lighter she brought out of her jean pocket, grabs the stack of notepads from the table, and quickly -but carefully- sets flame to them, before tossing them into the deep stone planter at last.
Tara watches with bated breaths until the last pages are finally ablaze and getting reduced to ashes. It's then, at that moment, that her eyes well up with tears, she crumbles to her knees on the cold concrete, and her body begins to shake with the sobs that start to overwhelm her.
But remembering Claire's words earlier about needing a good cry, she allows herself this moment to fall apart. There's no one here to put a brave face on for, no reason to pull herself together like she's done way too many times in her life to count, ... she has earned the right to cry, and so she gives in, lets it all go, discards, and lets the tears flow freely until she's all cried out and they stop on their own.
X
It wasn't a miracle cure, it wasn't like the moment the tears stopped all her guilt had just suddenly stopped too, but by the time Tara makes it back to their apartment, she already feels lighter somehow, and it feels strange to even admit it to herself, but she does feel better. She can't explain it, and she's afraid if she tries to dissect it, this feeling might go away again, and so she doesn't. She just lets it go.
It's already well past midnight, and she should feel tired, but with Jax still not home, she can't seem to find any rest herself yet either, because what happened between him and Gemma still weighs heavily on her conscience after all. The guilt over him having to do this to his own mother would undoubtedly still linger until she'd finally get to talk to him and know that he was alright.
So instead Tara busies herself with packing away any clothes she knows she won't be wearing any time soon. She's reaching around in the small closet space she's been sharing with Jax, realizing with a smirk that half of his things are literally mixed in between hers, and since his wardrobe is a lot smaller than hers she wonders momentarily how he ever finds anything to wear at all.
The first box is finally full, so she hurries to tape it shut, pulling the lid from the marker off with her teeth, before she marks the box on opposite sites with the words: 'Master bedroom - clothes.'
She lets out an unladylike grunt, that she's glad Jax isn't here to witness, when she pushes the heavy box off to the side and out of the way, but when she's just about to tape up the bottom of a new box to start the whole process all over again, her eyes land on one of Jax's boxes in the corner on the bottom of their closet, marked 'misc', instead.
She swears she isn't trying to snoop, but rather just wants to see if there is any room left in the box so that she could add some of her own odds and ends to it, like belts and such, that she knows she won't be able to use any time soon anymore now.
So she pulls the box out of the corner by one of the already open flaps until she can peek inside. What she finds is exactly what she thought she would find; belts, belt buckles, his knife he used to carry with him everywhere, baseball hats, beanies, gloves … But as she continues to rifle through it, her hands suddenly still when she finds one of those little yellow notebooks he used to write in, the ones she thought he'd gotten rid off just last week at Greg's and Claire's place.
She takes a seat at the edge of the bed, hesitating for a second, but then she remembers how Jax has vowed to her that there are no more secrets between them, so reading this shouldn't reveal anything he didn't want her to know. With that thought in mind, she opens the journal and glances over page after page, quickly realizing that this was in fact one of the few journals he'd written to her instead of the boys, and it eases some of the lingering doubt whether or not she should be reading this.
As she skims through the pages, she quickly realizes that it's mostly the same sad and self-degrading words she's read from him previously. He blames himself over and over for what has happened, and then promises over and over again how he'd prove himself to her if she'd only wake up and give him a chance to do so.
It breaks her heart to read about his inner turmoil again, about his doubt that he was doing right by the boys without her there to guide him. But it's one page in particular that suddenly draws her attention and she can't bring herself to stop reading it more thoroughly.
'Am I delusional? Am I crazy to think there's hope? Should I know better? I can hear them, even when they think I can't, people around town, in this goddamn hospital even, talking behind my back, agreeing that this is it, that the longer you're unresponsive, it means this is just a long drawn-out goodbye. But every time I come here, every day I look at you, I'm sure I can sense or see a new spark of life. A fluttering behind closed eyelids? A twitch of your brow? A trembling finger? Is it real, or is it just my desperate mind beginning to play tricks?
Or maybe they're all wrong? Maybe you're that miracle that will be talked about? The one badass woman who survives this kind of shit. If anyone can, it's you, Babe, I just know it!
But then again, ... maybe I am wrong? Wrong for holding on? Maybe you're ready to go, but I'm not ready to let you? Am I keeping you here against your will? Shit, doesn't that sound just like something I would do? Is that selfish of me, or is that just because I love you so fucking much? I can't decide, ... but what's another day? Another minute? What new thing will I learn about your face after staring at it a little longer? What new memory can I capture while you're just lying there, probably desperately begging for me to let you go?
No, fuck that! Sorry, no dice, Babe. I can't, ... I just can't. If there's still hope, no matter how small, I'm clinging to it with everything I have, and I will continue to cling to it until you open those pretty eyes and make my world whole again. Because no version of my life doesn't have you in it.
Did I tell you about last night? It was a rough one. I let Gemma spend some time with the boys at the park. Not sure what she said to them, but it ended with Abel and Thomas crying when I left Margaret's house, both wanting to come home with me. Somehow I kept my shit together until I made it out to my bike, but I ain't gonna lie, it tore me up.
If she thought she was being clever by toying with their emotions and putting ideas in their heads, her little scheme backfired, because I'm just about pissed off enough to not let her see the boys again for a long fucking time.
Then, after tossing and turning for hours, I finally fell asleep clutching your pillow, only to end up having a nightmare about you, about us. Dreaming about a world where one minute you were still here, and the next you were already gone, leaving me alone. And in my dream, I remember walking into the Clubhouse, expecting everyone to be grieving like I am, but they're not. And I'm furious, can't understand why they're just laughing and going on about their day, like nothing happened. You are gone, so shouldn't everything stop? But it didn't, and I didn't know how to deal with that. How could you mean so much to me, but barely matter to them?
And then, after I woke up in a cold sweat yet again, it made me think back to a conversation we had that seems like a million years ago now. You told me that you wanted to matter to people, and I told you that you already did, that you mattered to me. Do you remember that? And I realized then that it had been nothing but a dream, just a fucking nightmare. Because you're not just my wife, the woman that I love, but you're also a mother, a friend, and an amazing surgeon, who's nowhere near done saving lives. I swear, it's still true, Tara, you matter! More than words can say. So I need you to hold on a little longer, baby, alright? You need to get better. You have to, for our boys, and for me, because that dream can't become my reality. I can't do this alone. I'm still here because of you, Tara. I would've never made it this far without you, and I won't accept a world - dream or reality - where you're just gone and I'm left behind. If you give up, ... so will I!'
The clicking of the lock on the front door suddenly alerts Tara that Jax is finally home, and she furiously wipes at the tears that have formed in her eyes again after reading his words. She should've known better, should've predicted that anything he wrote would be a tearjerker, but it still clearly hadn't stopped her from reading it anyways.
She quickly tucks the journal away again for now. She's not trying to hide it, and has every intention of letting him know she's read parts of it, just not tonight. There's already too much on her mind to have to worry about this too. So instead she stops her packing altogether and steps into the living room just in time to see that Jax has already shrugged off his leather jacket, hanging it on one of the hooks near the door.
Jax spins around when he notices her, undoubtedly surprised to see her awake. "Shit, ... sorry. I was trying not to wake you." He mumbles, but now wastes no time to step toward her to greet her. God, how I've missed her!
"You didn't. I was still up." She meets him halfway, and leans up on her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss, but when she reaches up and frames his face with her hands, she's startled by how cold he feels, pulling back from the kiss instantly. "Jesus Christ, Jax, you're freezing."
"I'm okay." He tries to pacify her at first, dismissing her concern, but then he can't help himself, and suddenly there's a little smirk dancing on his lips now when he adds. "On second thought, why don't you come a little closer, Babe, and warm me up?" And with that he quickly envelopes her in his arms, pulling her warm body tightly against his cold one.
"Jax, stop it." Tara yelps out a second later, trying to squirm away from him after he slipped his cold hands beneath her shirt at her waist to tease her.
"Sshhhhhhhh, you're gonna wake the boys." He scolds her mischievously, thoroughly amused with himself, and barely able to keep from laughing at the way she rolls her eyes at him. But then he finally lets up on her, afraid they might actually wake the boys, so he smoothes down her shirt again and just holds her close, sighing into her hair when he says. "Fuck, ... I missed you." Maybe Tig's right, maybe I am whipped.
"I missed you too," Tara mumbles against his chest in reply, equally happy to have him back home with her.
"What were you still doing up?" Jax wonders out loud when they pull away enough to look at each other, not liking the thought that she hadn't gone to sleep because of him. He'd never meant for her to wait up.
"You know, packing, making lists. I just couldn't sleep without you here." Tara confirms what he suspected, but then she nods her head toward the kitchen, redirecting his thoughts. "Are you hungry? Do you want me to heat you something up?" She asks, searching his face, but he's already shaking his head no.
"Thanks, but I'm good. I stopped and had a couple sandwiches earlier. I really just wanna rinse off real quick and climb into bed with you." Jax replies quickly, but then a flash of guilt crosses his face, and he inwardly scolds himself for wasting so much time at the Clubhouse and not getting home sooner. "I'm sorry I took so long, but you shouldn't have waited up."
"I know, but ... like I said, I just couldn't sleep." She holds his gaze, and something in the look he's giving her prompts her now to ask the question he didn't want to answer earlier over the phone. "So about Gemma, ... you didn't answer me earlier, but are you okay?"
Jax's chest inflates and deflates as he sighs deeply before he pulls her tightly against him again, pressing his lips against her hair in a sweet little kiss before he replies. "I am now."
His arms tightening around her, coupled with his sweet kiss and reply, warms her heart in ways she wouldn't know how to begin to describe. And this moment right here with him is just further proof that she wasn't crazy to stick it out with him in Charming for as long as she had, ... and that she wasn't crazy when she decided to give him another chance all those many months ago either. What they have now, the boys, this baby, and each other, it makes it all worth it.
But a moment later Jax interrupts her train of thought when he suddenly pulls away enough to look down at her again, because all of what she said is slowly beginning to register with him now, and he can't help but meet her eyes this time with a hint of concern in his voice, when he asks. "You know you're not supposed to lift boxes and shit in your condition, right?"
"I didn't." She smiles, amused by his wording, but also appreciating his concern that seems so utterly normal and downright domestic, especially in hindsight of getting kidnapped by Salazar or Clubhouse explosions. "I just pushed them out of the way a little, I swear."
"Good." He seems appeased, pressing his forehead against hers. "You're not doing this alone this time. I'm here, Babe, so let's leave all the heavy lifting to me, alright?"
"Yes, alright." Tara answers, touched by his words, and by the truth behind them. This time they'll do all of this together, as a family, the move, the baby, everything.
In an attempt to nip the overwhelming emotions in the bud, she starts pulling away from him again a moment later, gesturing to the hallway that leads to the bathroom. "We should start the water for you, it takes forever to heat up."
X
Jax is literally just standing under the hot stream for a solid five minutes, unmoving, waiting for the heat to seep into him and loosen his stiff muscles even as he's talking away.
The long drive home gave him plenty of time to replay that entire ordeal with his mother over and over again in his head, and by the time he'd crossed over the state line into Oregon, he'd finally, truly, managed to make peace with it somehow, and all that conflict he'd felt throughout their confrontation, and then afterward too, somehow had fallen more and more away with every mile he put between Stockton and his Harley.
So now, with all that clarity Jax isn't holding back any longer, relaying every last sordid detail of his interaction with Gemma back to Tara without wavering. All the while she's his captive audience, sitting on the closed toilet lid, with the shower curtain pulled back just enough that she can meet his eyes throughout their ongoing conversation.
He eventually steps out from under the direct stream of water and begins to soap up, taking his time now to work the soap into his sore muscles, but he does all that without ever missing a beat, and when he finally concludes the story, Tara can't help but let out a little sigh of relief when she says. "I'm just glad it's over. And you're home."
"Me too." Jax agrees, turning away from her to pour more body wash onto the washcloth he's been using, but then turns back, holding it out to her when he asks. "Can you give me a hand with my back?"
"Of course," Tara replies without hesitation, and quickly stands, taking the washcloth from him, and leaning in closer when she starts scrubbing up and down over his muscular, tattooed back for several minutes.
"Thanks, Babe." He says, taking the cloth from her again with a sweet smile when she's done.
"No problem." She replies, but the second she turns her back to him, he catches her off guard, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her over the ledge of the bathtub and right under the stream of water with him, except that she is still fully clothed.
Tara sputters against the water that bombards her unexpectedly, stepping aside to dodge the brunt of it, wiping her wet hair out of her face so she can glare up at him. "I should've known you'd do something like this."
Jax laughs. "Probably."
Tara shakes her head at him in both disbelief and amusement, a memory of their younger selves flitting through her mind for just a second, while she's trying her best to contain the smirk that's threatening to take completely over her face. "You're incorrigible, Teller."
"So I've been told ..." He replies, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, leaning down to nip at her ear, before he straightens up again to meet her eyes when he adds. "... by you."
Tara shakes her head, unable to hide her own amusement any longer, but also in disbelief that they're teasing and flirting with each other at nearly two o'clock in the morning, which is something she feels should be pointed out. "It's almost two in the morning, Jax. This is crazy." The words leave her lips, but that doesn't stop her at all from letting her hands trail the path of her eyes down his chest and over his abs.
"I know it's late." He nods in agreement, but then smirks at her when he adds with a touch of humor to his voice. "Which means we better get started."
But before Tara can even think of a reply, he's framing her face with both hands and his lips are already crushing against hers in a needy kiss. A kiss she's craved all day, that draws her in at once and leaves her no choice but to reciprocate.
The kiss deepens on its own, growing more forceful with each brush of their tongues, dueling for dominance.
Jax begins to pull at her clothes, at the t-shirt that seems to cling to her like a second skin now that it's soaking wet, but he won't let up, gripping the hem and breaking the kiss just long enough to yank the heavy fabric over her head in one smooth move, before tossing the garment to the floor of the tub.
He cups both her breasts at the same time, loving the heavy feel of them in his palms, before he ducks down to nip and kisses a trail from one nipple to the other, and back again.
Everything he does to her feels amazing, and Tara loves foreplay as much as any woman would, but the powerful, needy throbbing in her core makes her want to hurry things along now, and skip ahead to the final act.
"Jax." She gasps out his name, tugging at the short strands of his hair to gain his attention and pull his lips away from her heaving chest.
When he straightens, she quickly wraps her arms around his neck, standing on her tiptoes to pull herself flush against him, nipping and kissing on his neck now in return before she practically breathes into his ear. "I want you."
"I want you too." He answers, already hooking his thumbs into the waistband of her yoga pants, then starts to shimmy the wet material down her hips and legs until they pool in a heap around her ankles, and Tara kicks them away.
But then Jax slowly drops to his knees in front of her, again trailing kisses along the way, from her neck to her chest and all the way down below her belly. The tips of his fingers hook into the waistband of her panties this time, before he slowly pulls the simple black thong past her hips too, just to let it fall to the ground by her feet.
He grabs her waist to steady her, then quickly spins her so that her back is braced against the tiled wall, leaving her barely enough time to register what he's doing, before he's already hooking one of her legs over his shoulder, and leans in to pleasure her with his mouth.
Tara moans at the unexpected contact of his lips and tongue against her most sensitive flesh, along with the scrape of his beard against her skin that's adding another layer of enjoyable stimulation too.
Jax loves the way she tastes, and could easily keep going for hours, but Tara has other plans of her own. She lowers her leg from his shoulder, impatiently and insistently tugging on him to stand up again, and pleased when he finally complies.
She frames his face this time, pulling him toward her for a scorching kiss that leaves her tasting herself on his tongue, before she drops one hand to reach down between them and begins to stroke the already hard length of his, and loving the way it causes him to moan against her lips for a change.
They continue to kiss, and she continues to stroke him for just a few minutes longer, until Tara pulls away from the kiss just long enough to beg. "Love me, Jax, ... please."
Jax certainly doesn't need any more coaxing, quickly guides both her arms around his neck with instruction for her to 'hold on tight, Babe', then hooks one of her legs around his hip, guides the tip of himself to her entrance, before he pulls her other thigh up as well and thrusts forward to push all the way inside her.
They moan out in unison at that first deep contact, and he stills his hips there for just a short little moment, loving the way she's quivering around him already, before he adjusts his grip around her thighs and begins to drive into her in deep and powerful strokes.
Tara tightens her arms around his neck, clinging to him with all the strength she can muster, gasping and moaning every time he enters her, every time he fills her to the hilt, expertly grinding his pelvis against her clit in the way he knows will drive her over the edge in no time at all.
And he's not wrong, because she's so close already, that she's sinking her teeth into the crook of his neck to keep herself from getting too loud, not even caring if it'll leave a mark on him, and neither does he, it seems, because he grunts against her shoulder in obvious pleasure in response, before his hips pick up speed.
It feels like every muscle in her body stiffens all at once when she falls over the edge and finally orgasms, her core continuing to pulse and quake against him and around him while he keeps on thrusting into her, prolonging her climax and quickly driving himself closer to his own too.
Neither of them has ever been much for dirty talk, at least not in the midst of the act itself, so it certainly surprises and arouses Tara, when Jax pants against her ear and suddenly says. "I swear, you coming on my dick is the best fucking feeling in the world, Tara. I love it. I love you."
He continues to drive into her over and over again, snapping his hips harder and faster each time, chasing his own release now. He's loving the way Tara tries to muffle her moans by sinking her teeth into his skin all the while her pussy keeps clamping down on his dick, making his balls draw up and tighten in anticipation, and ultimately milks him until he spills all of himself deep down into her liquid heat in uncontrollable spurts from his cock. He's reveling in this one-of-a-kind state of bliss that only Tara can take him to, because with her it's never been just sex, it's more, it's real love, it's making love. It's everything!
X
Jax has just slipped on a pair of gray sweats and a t-shirt, when Tara steps back into the bedroom too, holding out his phone to him in one hand, and a glass of whiskey in the other.
He looks perplexed for just a second at her second offering and asks. "What's that for?"
"Thought it might help warm you up." She replies.
He takes the drink from her and takes a quick sip, testing out the familiar burn as the liquid travels down his throat, but then flashes her an instant smirk and shoots her a wink that she knows can only mean trouble. "Think you've already warmed me up pretty thoroughly in the shower just now, Babe." He swirls the brown liquid around in the heavy tumbler, though his eyes never leave hers when he adds. "But thanks anyways." He takes another, more hardy, swig, taking notice of the way Tara's watching him carefully, and so he can't help but ask her in all seriousness now. "What's that look for?"
Tara averts her eyes from him for a split second, blushing just enough that he notices, before she ruefully confesses. "Just living vicariously through you."
He raises the glass, along with his eyebrows when he asks in surprise. "Really? You miss this stuff?"
She shrugs, but then admits it anyway. "Only on tough days."
"Like today." He finishes out loud for her when she doesn't say it, but when Tara nods in agreement, he hurries to finish the rest of his drink before he adds, sounding rather solemn himself. "Yeah, I get that."
But then he surprises her when he puts the glass down on the dresser and quickly steps up to her, framing her face at once to pull her in for a passionate kiss that gives Tara a taste of the whiskey he's just downed, leaving no doubt that that was his intention all along.
The kiss lets up not too long after, and they climb into bed, cuddling close beneath the heavy comforter, fitting their bodies together like puzzle pieces for maximum contact and warmth, ready to drift off to sleep now.
She snuggles even closer against him just a few seconds later, interrupting the quiet when she whispers into the crook of his neck. "Jax? ... There's something I need to tell you."
"What's that?" He asks surprised, resting his cheek against the top of her head, wondering what she could possibly feel the need to tell him right now that couldn't wait until the morning.
She has followed Claire's advice and did her little ritual, which has undoubtedly helped, but she still feels like she needs to share this with him too, clear the air and get this off of her chest. "Do you remember when you asked me why I didn't want to have a girl?"
"Yeah, I remember," Jax answers, sounding suddenly more awake again.
"I wasn't completely honest with you about the reasons why." Tara begins to confess.
"What do you mean?" Jax interjects, a hint of worry already edged into his voice.
"It wasn't just about being scared that she'd become part of that world someday, but a lot of it was actually about me, and how I handled things when we were together. When you proposed to me, you said that I stayed when anyone else would've bailed, and that's true. But what made you grateful that I stayed, in hindsight it made me second guess myself, at least when it comes to raising a girl."
"Tara." Jax's sorrowful-sounding voice interrupts her again.
But Tara interrupts him right back, speaking up before he can even get another word out. "Please, just let me get this off my chest." The last thing she wants is for this to turn into an argument, that wasn't her intent at all. So when she's met with just silence from him now, she lets out a heavy sigh and quickly continues. "I swear this isn't me taking three steps back again, and I'm not trying to make you feel bad either. I know we're past all that stuff and we've forgiven each other. I mean, that I know why I stayed. I chose to stay because we love each other, and I believed in us. I stayed for all the countless things you did right, the things I love about you, instead of leaving you for the few things you had done wrong. But despite knowing why I stayed, I still can't help but question how I'm supposed to raise our little girl without feeling like a hypocrite? How can I possibly be a good role model for our little girl?"
"Wait, our little girl?" He repeats, unable to stop himself from interrupting her now, sounding obviously surprised. He quickly flicks the bedside lamp right beside him, before propping himself up on his elbows to meet her eyes and to search her face when he asks hopefully. "Did you find out the sex today?"
Tara also props herself up, already shooting him an apologetic look, but wastes no time shutting down the assumption he's just made based on her poorly worded question when she carries on to explain. "No, no, sorry, baby. It could still be a boy, I really don't know any more than you do. I just wanted to tell you the truth about what really has been worrying me, if we were to have a girl. That's all. That's what I meant."
"You're worried if you'd be a good mother?" Jax asks disbelievingly now, shaking his head at the ludicrousness of what she had meant, before he answers instantly. "Jesus Christ, Babe, ..." He tightens his arm around her shoulder and tugs her closer against him again, pressing a quick kiss against her forehead. "You're already an amazing mom, and that's not ever gonna change."
Tara shakes her head slightly in response though, because he's obviously misunderstanding what exactly she is trying to say. "It's not so much about being a good mom, as it is about teaching our girl to have self-respect, and to stand up for herself, when I didn't exactly do that for myself."
"Goddamnit." Jax curses under his breath, his voice full of loathing and frustration, but the way he wraps both his arms around her, pulling her tightly against him, and presses several sweet kisses against the top of her head, makes it clear he's not frustrated with her, but rather with himself and what he'd done to her. He sighs heavily, holding her tight, stroking her hair back trying to comfort her, and his lips are near her ear when he says. "Look, it's like you already said, you stayed because you loved me and you believed in us, you believed in me, and you believed in every promise I had made. But how were you supposed to know that I'd break nearly every single one? What I'm saying is, is that none of that falls on you. None of that is your fault, okay? You deserved to be treated so much better than I treated you, you deserved more respect than I gave you, and I'm so sorry that my fuck-ups make you doubt yourself."
He pulls back enough to meet her eyes, cupping her cheek to guide her face up to get her to keep her focus on him in return, because he wants her full attention to ensure she'll truly hear what he's got to say now. "You are everything to me, Tara, and I swear to you that I'll never ever take you for granted again. I learned from my mistakes, and I'll never put you in another situation where you'll have to choose between me or your self-respect, I promise you that. You are everything a man could wish for. You're smart, successful, caring, loyal, and strong, and it goes without saying that you're incredibly beautiful too. And I don't need to be king of some fucking biker kingdom to know that you're a goddamn queen. But that is exactly what you are, Tara, you're my queen, and I'll cut my own heart out before I'd ever treat you as anything less than that again. You are amazing in every way, any man would be lucky to have you as his wife, any kid would be lucky to have you as their mother, and any girl couldn't possibly find a better role model to look up to than you. No one can hold a candle to you, no one with a bigger, purer heart or a stronger soul than you, no one who could raise a girl, -our daughter- better than you would. I swear, Babe. You have to believe me."
Tara's not entirely sure what did it, but somehow it worked. Between Claire's weird little ritual, Jax's apology, and breathtaking declaration of love and devotion, she suddenly realizes that all the noise in her head, all those voices of doubt that usually taunt her, are falling away, growing silent the longer she looks into Jax's eyes, which are reflecting nothing but so much remorse and endless love back at her.
She raises her hand up to cover her eyes which are filling with tears, but her quivering chin is on full display, giving away the emotions that are overwhelming her at Jax's sweet descriptions of her.
"Babe?" Jax asks, his voice full of concern now when he pries her hand away from her face so that he can meet her eyes again, wiping away the tears that are spilling past her lower lids. "The last thing I want to do is make you cry."
Tara shakes her head, hurriedly trying to wipe the tears away again, and smiles back at him, not wanting him to worry, because for once there is nothing to be worried about. Her voice comes out in an unusually high pitch, even though she's smiling through her tears now. "I'm fine. It's just everything you said, ... thank you for what you said. It made me happy. I'm just happy."
"So those are happy tears?" He asks with a heavy dose of skepticism still in his voice, despite the smile she's granting him.
"Yes. I'm happy." Tara replies, smiling even more now, then grabs his face in both her hands and leans in to press a lingering kiss against his lips, before eventually pulling away again to add. "You make me really fucking happy."
"Good." He looks relieved, and grins back at her a second later. "'Cause I worked pretty damn hard in that shower to get you to a happy place."
"No argument there," Tara replies, for once giving in to his teasing.
He presses his lips back to hers for another quick kiss. "I love you." He then twists away to quickly flick the lamp back off, before he pulls Tara back into his arms and says. "Now let's get some shut-eye, or nobody's gonna be happy when the sun comes up."
"Agreed." Tara mumbles against his chest, already drifting away, feeling more at peace than she has in months.
But Jax speaks up again, waking her one last time. "Babe?"
"Hmmm?" Tara hums in reply.
"You make me really fucking happy too."
X
Author's Note: Hope you liked this chapter. Is it too cheesy at the end? I'm so used to writing conflict, that I seem to struggle with making the happy times sound real/right. Please let me know what you think. Thank you.