#imagine my man saying some stupid self deprecating bullshit ????? all the time ????? HELL NO

[youcantunringthebell]

The Lyin’ King

This is the 99 percent true* story of a friendship that was at least 50 percent false.

Surprising, because I never thought of myself as a gullible person. Shouldn’t a newspaper reporter have the strongest bullshit detector imaginable? (Yes, there was the time my colleagues convinced me the boss was forcing us into “treadmill meetings,” but in all fairness, she seemed to have some body image issues, and the company gym was right there.) In situations where things seem ideal, though, I’m often the first to Google that shit and start finding the flaws.

Except for with Leo. **

I met him through my ex-husband, but after a handful of happy hours, he was more my friend that my ex’s. We had something in common: Upbringing in ultra-conservative Christian families followed by fallout when we left those systems. He was coming out as gay and leaving the church, I could help him navigate that and, being newly divorced, I had a lot of time on my hands. We bonded over mutual rejection and our newfound addiction to online dating.

I try not to use the word “perfect,” because a Buddhist friend reminds me that nothing on this earthly plane fits that description. But Leo was perfect: young, model-gorgeous with a wardrobe to match. Charming in any social situation. Wickedly funny, useful in a crisis, an attentive listener. Go places with Leo and, over time, you will meet literally hundreds of people drawn into his light. Some of them get to stay. It’s intoxicating.

He barely made an effort at work and won employee of the year consecutively. Eventually, he earned a lofty position that absolutely nothing on his resume would demonstrate he could fill, and his bosses loved him there, too. He sang beautifully, danced sexily, painted passably. He ran marathons and lifted weights. Leo even perfectly curated his imperfection, to wit, a scar that came with a hilarious story about a brown recluse hiding in old pants.

He lived with my husband and me briefly, between men, but there were usually men. Never as attractive, typically more accomplished, although that second requirement could be suspended if it looked like the other option was extended singleness. So when Leo started talking about the man he would marry, I burst out laughing and told him he was full of shit. He started crying because I didn’t believe him. I begged him to forgive me.

Looking back, that should have told me something.

Because if Leo had been sitting on a computer in Nigeria emailing me that he was a displaced prince and needed my bank account number so he could reclaim his lost wealth, I’m not completely sure I wouldn’t be bankrupt right now.

The new boyfriend was close to becoming a doctor. The Doctor told me his medical specialty was hugging — that’s how earnest this guy was. He and Leo moved to another state for a residency and, sure enough, got engaged soon after that move. I spoke at their wedding.

Their marriage didn’t last long. Something was always wrong with The Doctor. He wasn’t attentive enough. He walked funny. He overspent. Leo had to take a second job — working weekends at conferences around the globe — to pay the bills. He texted me pictures of scenery in exotic locales. “This looks fun, but you seem angry all the time now,” I told him. Of course he was angry, living with all the stress of keeping them afloat, Leo said.

They got divorced, and Leo announced he was moving home to Nashville, but first he had to move in with a co-worker suffering from a brain tumor to see her through it, plus he was getting more involved in church and going to therapy. No more men, he said, just work, caretaking and the spritual journey of self-discovery for him. Every single phone call came back to the church, therapy or the friend with cancer. I started to feel petty, wanting Leo to come home when there was such important work where he was. Our conversations got awkward.

“Leo always reminds me we’re best friends, but I don’t think I know him at all anymore,” I told my husband. He shrugged. Friendships change, he said.

Instead of Leo moving back to Nashville, The Doctor moved back. Leo called, frantic, with the news. Turns out the doctor had been cheating on him all along with a colleague! He stole all Leo’s money! Leo was ruined! Wasn’t it awful?

So when The Doctor, who worked less than a quarter-mile from my office, texted that we should have coffee now that he was back, I ignored that asshole. A few months later, when he texted that he was thinking about me and asked how I was, I wrote back, “Fine, thanks.” This slow thaw went on for about a year, and eventually it seemed nuts NOT to just forgive him and have coffee. Let he among us who hasn’t cheated for the length of a marriage and then left our spouse destitute cast the first stone, right?

The first half-hour our visit, we discussed weather and work. The Doctor finally introduced the elephant.

“Why do you think Leo and I got divorced?” he asked.

“That’s not important,” I said. “Water under the bridge.”

“I seriously want to know,” he said.

I considered for a moment. “Because you’re a compulsive philanderer and thief?”

The Doctor looked prepared for that answer. No, he said. Just the opposite.

And through a series of lunches with The Doctor plus light stalking, I learned that many things Leo told me since he moved were lies. The weekend conference job was a cover for an affair that predated the marriage — The Doctor figured that out thanks to an unexpected credit card statement. It was a man The Doctor knew as a family friend, a straight husband and father. That meant the pictures sent to me were probably from Google Images. Leo’s co-worker with cancer probably never actually had cancer, and if she did, her daughter already lived in the same apartment.

There really was a church, turns out, because Leo and his lover joined it on the same day, according to an online bulletin.

I started to investigate some stories that didn’t have to do with Leo’s marriage. More lies. The timing on my Nancy Drew act was bad, because Leo was hopping a plane home to see a concert with me the next week.

I emailed him what I’d found out, too afraid I’d fall apart during a phone call, and apologized for the times I came off as judgmental about other people’s affairs. It was none of my business, I wrote, and I could see where it made it impossible to tell me what was going on. We set a time to talk, and Leo tearfully copped to the affair, but nothing else.

“What made you think you couldn’t just tell me the truth?” I asked.

“I always wanted to be so perfect.” He was crying, struggling to get the words out. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be my friend anymore.”

We were silent for a moment, and then I heard a muffled, cheerful greeting. “I’ll be in there in a sec!” Leo shouted. No tears.

“Where are you?” I asked.

He was outside a wedding shower and had to go. “I assume, in light of all this, I shouldn’t come to Nashville,” he said.

“Of course you should still come!” I said. “You need to come now more than ever so we can figure out what the hell happened between us.”

He sent the text a few hours before I was supposed to pick him up from the airport: I’m being called last minute to work one of those conferences, and with my financial situation, I can’t afford to say no.

Even with the truth in the open — realizing that I knew the conferences never existed and The Doctor hadn’t stolen from him — he retreated into the lie. It was like he had no choice. I couldn’t stop staring at my phone.

The way my decade-long friendship with Leo ended shook me for about a year. Now that he was gone, my friends who knew him could step forward with their own experiences. I could look back on things he said and see the cracks. I’ve never felt more stupid. Mostly, my feeling was that because he was so beautiful and charming and talented, and because I am a fat, middle-aged lady with a few jokes and decent writing ability, I never allowed myself to be skeptical with him for fear he’d stop talking to me. I believed someone else with more self-esteem who was a little brighter would have seen right through Leo. This isn’t me being self-deprecating, this is how I actually saw it.

With a few years’ perspective and after meeting a couple more Leos subsequently, I have a theory. I think there may be a lot of Leos out there among us.

Those of us raised ultra conservative, who wake up to the damage that extremism does, face a choice. The day comes where we either speak our truths and stop accommodating the family system, or we always keep a little bit of a lie going so we can keep their favor. Leo was like that. Once he told his family he was gay and they could live with that, he had to construct a perfect gay marriage to a perfect candidate. It couldn’t be troubled like other marriages. There couldn’t be an affair. It had to be perfect.

But those of us who stop accommodating, who say you’re wrong and refuse to support even the slightest vestige of that system, who take our lumps and live with the displeasure ... we get to be rigorously honest. Once we’ve made a stand that life-changing, it no longer matters what our friends, or our boss, or anyone thinks.

We’ve earned our truth. And we may live so strongly in that truth, it seems impossible for someone we love to be enmeshed in lies. We may be completely taken in by that person.

And that’s OK. Maybe even beautiful.

* I’ve changed one name.

** That’s the name.

[symptomsofbeingsarah-blog]

Oof I made a story

Sarah Salvina!

  Physical Description!

5’7”

Glasses with leopard prints, that are definitely NOT Nickelodeon Brand.

Brown hair that’s cut short, and is also messy a f.

Brown eyes

Round face

Medium sized nose

Full lips

Heavy-set

Wide thighs

Large Feet

Personality:

Positive Traits:

Creative

Loving

Empathetic

Kind

Knowledgeable

Down-To-Earth

Relatable

Extroverted

Witty

Humorous

Fast-thinker

Insightful

Mature

Negative Traits:

Self-Deprecating

Worried

Anxious

Paranoid

Unstable

Emotional

Blunt

Insecure

Unconfident

Chaotic Mind

Unrealistic

Vulgar

Powers:

Mind Reading, or Telepathy

Life Vision

Origin/Backstory

Sarah Salvina was a happy kid. Despite the divorce that had happened when she was a mere three years of age, she still managed to stay optimistic, and stay in touch with her father. All throughout her grade school years, she got amazing, honor roll level grades. Her mom was happy, her grandparents, although old, were still living life to the fullest, and everything was financially sound. But, when young Sarah would look into someone’s eyes, she couldn’t help but wonder: What was going on inside of their head? What were they thinking? What were they truly feeling? They were smiling, but were they actually happy? Of course, she kept all of these thoughts in her head, not wanting to seem like a freaking weirdo.

That was up until middle school. It started off as what was merely called an echoic memory. She could think of anyone’s voice. A celebrity, a friend, a classmate. Anyone who she’s been around often, or at least for a while. And, she could form a sentence in her head with them! ...She soon realized that nearly everyone could do this, and that she wasn’t special. She wasn’t a superhero.

One day, when she was in the seventh grade, her mother and her went to a thrift store to find some cheap books for Sarah. By then, her imagination was frantic, her thoughts rapid. She couldn’t think of one thing, no, she had to think of at least ten things at once. While she intensely skimmed through the books, she was thinking about a multitude of things. Oh, god, that math homework is hard, what’re we going to do after this? These books are lame. I’m hungry. I wish I had a cellphone of my own, it’s stupid that I can’t listen to music. I wonder what movies are out…

She was so focused in on her own thoughts, that she didn’t even notice as a woman bumped into her. Or, did she bump into the woman…? As Sarah apologizes, the woman, short, and with a wrinkly nose, shakes her head dismissively, and says: “It’s fine!” Sarah turns her attention back to her novels, when she hears something. “Damn it. That kid needs to pay more attention to the people around her.”

Sarah’s eyes widened, and she turned to the woman. That couldn’t be echoic memory, she thought, I barely heard the woman! What the hell?! Obviously in disbelief, the semi tall thirteen year old rubs her temples, and looks to the woman, who was now nearly out of the long aile. She couldn’t hear anything else from her.

That was the first time she ever read someone’s mind. And, although it was accidental, it changed her life forever. Now, obviously you can’t go around telling people that you can read minds. They’ll either think you’re crazy, or...yeah. That’s the only thing that they’ll think. Sarah was too old and mature to think up of something so silly and ridiculous, and life wasn’t a cartoon, or a video game.

For the few months of having this power, Sarah didn’t really use her newfound ability too much. Half of the time it was accidental, but the other half? She was able to snoop. She was able to figure out what people truly thought about her clothing, her hair. Basic things like that. It didn’t affect her too much, and at this point in her life, she was still a very powerful person.

That’s when she started seeing the shadows. And hearing a voice that wasn’t her own, but didn’t quite belong to anyone else either. Every once and a while, she would look behind her, and, just for a moment, see a glimpse of a man. He was tall, tall enough to loom above her, and over half of the school. His voice reminded her of both a huge, growling dog, and Dr. Falcifer from The Princess and The Frog. Self deprecating thoughts constantly flowed through her mind, so much that it started to bring down the normally cheerful, outgoing girl.

No one likes you. What if you end up all alone? You’re worthless, Sarah. Worthless. And an overachiever. Why don’t you just give the fuck up? What’s the point of trying if you can tell nobody likes you? Just read the minds of the people around you.

And, she did. Over the course of this time, she became a lot better at controlling when and where she read other people’s thoughts. As it was lunch time, she heads into the cafeteria, and walks past the popular table to get to the lunch line.

Ugh, look at that lardass. She walks around like she owns the school. Preppy little snob. I’d fucking throw a calculator at the fat bitch if I could.

Her eyes widen, and she quickly adverts her gaze from the popular student’s table. Focusing on getting her food, and sitting with her friend group, she gets into the lunch line. The thoughts turn normal again. For some reason, though, she couldn’t switch the telepathy off. Yeah, that’s what it was called. She’s certain, even though the only superhero that she truly loved was The She-Hulk.

God, I’m so fucking hungry. Jesus, can’t this line get any faster? Holy fuck, can this lardass stop breathing down my neck? She needs to stop hogging up the line, and lose some fucking weight.

“No, no!” She said, rubbing her temples. “They can’t be thinking that. You’re out of your mind, Sarah.” This got some stares out of her students. What weirdo talks to themselves?

“You. Because you’re an idiot, who talks to herself in front of a lunch line.”

Then, and only then, Sarah felt a hand on her shoulder. It wasn’t there, of course, but to her, it was cold, rough, and hard. Her shoulder hurt. It felt like a weight was being put on her shoulders. She continues to move through the line, ordering her usual sandwich: Tuna on a roll with provolone cheese and lettuce. That damn stranger, the one with the weird growly disney villain voice, was gone now, but her shoulder still hurt.

For the next three years, the voice in her head would torment her. Convince her that she was ugly, that no one liked her. And, her self confidence went down the drain.

One night, she was sitting in bed, in the middle of a really good chapter of a book. But then, something in her mind made her unmotivated. Fucking anxiety. Or, is it because I’m a Gemini? Whatever. It’s fucking bullshit.  

“Internal monologuing? God, what the fuck are you?”

The voice mumbled. This time, though, it wasn’t just a voice. It was a person. Now, she snagged glances at him every once and a while, but she’s never seen him fully, right in front of her bed.  He looked like a villain straight out of a comic book...or an angsty teenager straight out of a My Chemical Romance concert. She couldn’t decide. Either way, she was frozen in place, trying to think of what to say to this mean, mysterious, possibly artificial person.

“So, what’s your name?”

“I’m sorry, what? You genuinely want to get to know me, even though I made you suffer in unimaginable ways?”

He looked giant and awkward in her small room, his head almost grazing the ceiling. He now had a hoodie on, and possibly dark eyeshadow under his eyes. That was just a guess, as he didn’t remove the hoodie from his head. She sits up on her bed.

“...Well, if you’re going to turn my self confidence into shit, I’d like to at least know who my arch nemesis is.”

For a moment, the man smirks, chuckling. It made him sound like a smoker.

“You’ll learn that eventually. But, for now, I need to give you another power. It’ll come in handy, trust me on this. You can read minds, but you’re 15. You have a lot more powers left to gain.”

Sarah raises an eyebrow. “Okay, Mr. Mysterious. What’s this power that I need to possess? God, I’m losing my mind. I’m talking to my anxiety, jesus christ.”

“You don’t even believe in Go--fuck it, nevermind. Just, give me your hand.”

She listens to him. He burns her hand, making her wince in pain. “Ow! What the fuck, you bastard!”

“Shut up and look.”

Sarah looks to her wrist. An infinity symbol is engraved in her wrist in black ink, and she rubs it.

“...You gave me a tattoo? Is that your big reveal? You’re a goddamn tattoo artist?”

Sarah looks to him. Suddenly, a bunch of numbers shoot around him, surrounding him as if she were a computer processing data. The numbers form an infinity symbol, which floated above him for a few seconds, before splitting apart in the air, digitally, piece by piece. Like a video game. “WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“Life Vision. We’re immortal. You and I are really important, kid. We’re going to rid the world of all these evil bastards, and, trust me, your powers are going to help.”

Sarah stares at him as if he had twelve heads. Which, come to think of it, he could probably make himself have.

“...So, your name?”

He removes his hood, and smirks.

“Ang. Pronounced like Gong, with an A. I’m not that shitty airbender.”

[solaciummeae]

Hold On, Before It’s Too Late | Part 21

MOOD MUSIC

It had taken at least an hour to talk Jeff through everything. Of course, he hadn’t taken it well, and it didn’t help matters when Sam appeared from upstairs upon discovering their guest. At first the elder Harper had tried to dismiss every last word as Emma living with people who needed a lot of help. It had taken much proof to convince him otherwise, including a show of both Emma and Jude’s abilities in full swing. At that point, it was all too much to dismiss as coincidence.

He’d taken some time to process things on his own, finding a motel not too far away to collect his thoughts. It proved to be a good thing as the rest of them went about preparing for the baby that was inevitably in their future. Adam had returned to hanging around full time, more than excited over the news that his plan might yet work.

After a time, Bobby had insisted that they call on Jude’s father, claiming it was time that he knew. After all, if they really intended to get out of the cycle of this life and make such a clean break-- they’d need someone to help get them on their feet. Alan Kidd was one of the few hunters that had mastered living in both worlds-- and his financial support wouldn’t hurt either. 

Of course, Jude had protested at first, wanting to support his family without his father’s money. They didn’t always see eye to eye on things. The younger Kidd still felt guilt over being the reason for his mother’s death, even after all of this time.

Still, he’d been pulled into the loop, Bobby having no problem going over Jude’s head. It felt all too similar to the encounter which they’d had with Emma’s brother not long before. 

Emma wasn’t been ready to meet his father. It seems the further she goes into this pregnancy the more doubts she has. She can’t help but feel as though the older man is going to hate her. She offers him an apprehensive smile as Bobby invites him into the house.

Jude sits next to her, gripping her hand firmly in his as he tries to stop every self-deprecating thought that flies through her mind. He wishes he could shut her out of his mind because he’s just as nervous as she is. He knows she can feel it. ‘I love you-- please don’t forget that-- no matter what happens here-- we’re going to be fine.’

Her only response is to look at him, the paralytic fear behind her eyes as Bobby talks quietly with Alan to break the ice. As the shock from Jude’s father washes over her, turning from confusion to that of stressed frustration, she squeezes her eyes shut.

Jude knows that there’s nothing he can say whether in her mind or aloud that will stop the negativity now. As the other two men walk over, and his father looks down at them sternly, he’s ready to defend her. “Dad.” He speaks cautiously.

“Son.” Alan replies, inhaling a deep breath and releasing it in a long sigh. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Jude swallows, eyeing Emma carefully. “This is Emma-- my girlfriend. Emma-- this is my dad.”

Emma sits there feeling as though her death is imminent. She can’t seem to find her voice so she nods, keeping her eyes fixed on him as the food she’d eaten earlier threatens to come up violently.

‘This is her? This is the girl he thinks he loves?’ Alan thinks with surprise, just before speaking.

“I’d say she’s great deal more than a girlfriend at this point.” The older man comments, offering the girl a tight smile. He can tell he’s made her nervous, and clears his throat. “And Emma-- you’re gifted-- like my son here?”

‘So young-- and hardly able to speak-- she must be even more sick than Bobby let on.’  Alan’s thoughts read so clearly.

She feels so stupid sitting there completely silent as she nods again in response. She forces the word out, even if her voice is quiet and hoarse. “Y-yes.”

“I see--” He considers. “And you Judah-- why is the first I’m even hearing about this relationship? Haven’t heard from you in almost a year.” He marvels at the idea.

‘They obviously weren’t planning for this-- why do you kids have to be so irresponsible? How could he let this happen? She’s clearly not fit to be a mother...This’ll never last between them.’ More thoughts come from the older man, who doesn’t seem to understand how plain they are to both psychics.

Jude blinks a few times up at his father slowly. He knows he has to choose his words carefully. As he works over how to say it in his mind, he knows Emma can hear it. He can feel her in his mind as he struggles to formulate the words in a way that don’t sound hurtful to her. All at once, she seems to withdraw from his thoughts and he knows she’s already heard what she shouldn’t.

“I didn’t know how you’d take the news. I didn’t want your disapproval-- even if it doesn’t matter.” He finally says, his eyes fighting against the colder blue of his father. At the same time, it’s obvious that Emma can hear what he thinks of her and it only surges anger within the younger man. “And by the way-- she might be more forthcoming to speak if you weren’t insulting her internally left and right.”

“Boy--...” Bobby warns, having stood back to allow them their needed time.

“No Bobby-- you’d be livid if you knew what he was thinking of Emma right now.” The blonde fumes, glaring at his father.

“Jude-- it’s okay.” Emma attempts in a mumble, not wanting to cause problems.

Bobby looks to the other hunter standing beside him. He doesn’t have the abilities of the other two, but he wouldn’t put the accusations past him. “Is’at true Al?” He asks, his tone laced with disappointment.

Alan huffs an uneasy laugh, “Bobby-- come on, you can’t seriously think these two have any clue what they’re getting themselves into. This is ludicrous.” 

Bobby rotates his jaw unhappily. He should’ve trusted Jude’s judgment and not called upon Alan for help. ‘I’m sorry-- I made this mess, I’ll clean it up. You two head on upstairs. I’ll see him out.’ He aims his thoughts directly at the two on the couch.

Emma feels as though she’s frozen where she sits. She’d worked so hard to have more faith in their future, and it all seemed completely useless now. Jude looks over at her, squeezing her hand and tugging her with him as he stands. He’s seen the look on her face all too many times before. He’ll be lucky if she lets him near her at all now. “Come on Em-- let’s go.” He urges quietly, even as she won’t let him into her mind.

“And where are you going? We’re not done here--” Alan scoffs.

“Yes-- we are.” Jude corrects him, keeping his eyes on Emma.

“Alan-- I think we need to talk alone.” Bobby agrees sadly. “I told them to go.”

“You’ve hardly spoken two words Singer.” The other tries to dispute with deep seated irritation.

“Yeah-- the funny thing about psychics is-- they don’t need you to say anythin’ to know exactly what you’re thinkin’...” Bobby calmly chastises him.

Emma finds the strength to stand when Bobby defends them both. She takes her hand from Jude’s so she can step in front of his father. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t what you had in mind for Judah-- I’m sorry you can’t understand that he’s just as capable of loving me as I am him-- and I’m sorry that you’re not able to see the future that we’re destined for. But my son will be a great man-- strong and powerful. And you know what? He’s already loved by both of his parents. So we don’t need your help. We don’t need your approval. Because we already know where this story ends-- an angel from God himself told us.” She delivers every word of every line slowly and carefully so he’s sure not to miss anything. She doesn’t leave anything important out, every word wholly meant. She can sense that same shock come from him again as she retrieves Jude’s hand and pulls him toward the stairs behind herself. She forces herself to remain strong even as they climb the stairs.

Jude tries not to let his mouth hang open as she walks right up to his dad and tells him exactly how it is. He draws so much strength from her words as he listens for some sign that she’s going to fall apart. But she doesn’t, she speaks so eloquently, she’s so sure of herself. He doesn’t even feel the need to say another single sharp word to his father before he follows after her.

The pride that swells in Bobby’s chest is almost suffocating as he watches his surrogate daughter kindly give it to the other hunter. He waits a minute for the other man to process-- making a mental note to ask Jude just what he’d been thinking later. As soon as the door latches on the second floor, he turns on him. 

“Now you listen here Alan Kidd, that’s my little girl you were insultin’. And I don’t know just what you were thinkin’ about her, but she’s more special than you can imagine-- and those two belong together.” He begins, his eyes looking on the hunter harshly. 

“I told you when you got here to hear ‘em out. Turns out that baby she’s carryin’ is gonna be a vessel someday-- showed up here from the future ‘bout a year ago to tell us-- also told us that that boy o’ yours loves her so damn much that someday-- when she gets killed huntin’ he’s gonna make a deal to bring her back. S’why their son came in the first place-- to save his daddy from burnin’ in hell for all eternity-- so they have a chance at a normal life away from all this horseshit.” He goes on fiercely. 

“So I suggest makin’ amends real quick if you wanna have anythin’ to do with your grandbabies in the unstoppable near future.” He finishes, as Alan looks back on him blankly.

It was a lot to process. When he’d gotten the call, he’d never expected even half of this. He needs time to work through it all. He’d call him a liar if it’d been anyone other than Bobby Singer who’d told him all of this. As it stands, the other hunter had a low tolerance for bullshit and Alan finds himself unable to come up with any kind of argument. “They’ll need help starting over...” He swallows, the serious brooding expression still on his face. “I’ll be in touch.” With that, he makes swiftly to leave before his own guilt can consume him.

Upon entering her bedroom, Emma had dropped his hand in favor of hiding her face in her own. She almost immediately falls into fits of sobs as everything she’d held back for so long comes to the surface. She isn’t even sure how she’s still standing and moves to slide down the wall nearest her before her legs can completely give out.

Jude can’t gauge where she is until he closes the door behind them and she comes undone. He tries to reach for her as she steps away from him, feeling a certain emptiness without her hold on him. As if opening the floodgates, he’s slammed with everything she’s feeling as she lowers her own barriers. 

There’s a sharp pain that resonates through his chest as he drops to his knees in front of her. “H-hey...” He calls out to her softly, his voice wavering with the tears of his own that he chokes back now. He shifts to rest against the wall when she refuses to look at him. He easily pulls her into his lap and cradles her against him, his arms stretching protectively around her. He doesn’t say anything more at first, pressing his lips to her temple repeatedly as it’s the only part of her face she can’t hide.

She continues to furiously cry, even as he holds her tightly in his arms. Normally, she might be more embarrassed about such an intense break down, but she’s not. In those moments she listened to his father’s thoughts, and felt all of his disappointment, she’d also been reading Jude. She’d read every sincere mental response in her defense, she’d felt every ounce of disgust he had for the other man if for no other reason than that he didn’t respect Emma. She’d never known another person her whole life who loved her the way Jude does. 

He knows she needs time to work through it all, and does nothing to stop her from crying as long and as hard as she needs to. He just continues to hold her, resting his chin atop her head and allowing his own emotions to wash over her. 

When she finally pries her hands from her face, she pulls herself closer to him. Her arms tug around his neck as she hides her face in the crook of it. She forces herself to breathe more deeply as his feelings of certainty and peace penetrate her mind.

“I’m so proud of you,” He finally breaks the silence, keeping his tone gentle so as not to startle her. There’s more to his words that it would seem at first. He doesn’t just mean that he’s proud of her for sticking up for herself-- for them. He’s proud to call her his, and he’s proud to be hers. “I love you so much.” He reminds her.

She swallows, her heart rate evening out as he begins speaking quietly to her there on the floor. She nods slowly in acceptance, thinking on the feeling of his fingers in her hair as they sit there. She finally pulls one of her hands back to wipe at her face. 

His moves his own to knock hers out of the way, tilting her chin up to look him in the eyes. “You’re beautiful, you’re the strongest woman I know-- and you’re going to be a great mother,” He tells her firmly, his eyes moving between hers. He can’t help the smile the breaks out onto his face, “I mean-- come on Emma-- have you met Adam?” He teases lightly. This elicits a short laugh from her, causing relief to pulse through him. “I’m serious-- okay? If our other kids are half as great as him--”

Emma doesn’t let him finish trying to reassure her. Her own fingertips brush at his jawline as she presses her lips against his eagerly. He’s quick to respond with the fluid movement of his own in time with hers. Her body relaxes just as she pulls away to look at him once more. “I couldn’t do this without you.” She reminds him, to which he presses his lips to hers again quickly. She breaks away, giving him a warning look. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.” He agrees in challenge, his thumbs grazing the small of her back where his hands now rest. “And you won’t ever have to.” He insists.

She frowns at him, her thoughts voicing her concerns before she can speak them. ‘I will if everything Adam said is true.’ She thinks, causing him to cringe in front of her. She casts her eyes away, regretting having brought it up.

“Adam’s going to have a very different future to go back to--” He tells her, locking his gaze with hers again. 

“We’re getting out of this life.”