Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Just get out,” Ransom seethes, his voice gaining volume as the woman in front of him finally slips on her dress.

“I’m going,” she cuts back, her lip trembling at the sharp tone. “Didn’t think you’d kick me out right after you got your rocks off.”

“I said get out!”

The brunette lugs her purse over her shoulder, giving him the middle finger as his eyes narrow in response, his jaw clenching. At his stare, she flees the room, the door slamming while he cards a hand through his hair, blowing out a hard breath.

Shaky fingers open the nightstand drawer, his wedding ring still nestled in the box, three years gone since he’s worn it, placed upon the stack of the divorce papers that he hasn’t looked at since it was finalized. The condoms are on the left, easy access for him and no one else to see.

It would have been fine had she not asked questions.

He was still basking in the afterglow of his orgasm, mind everywhere else but on the one who used to warm his bed.

Pulling himself out of bed, he slams the nightstand drawer closed, the force of it swaying back and forth while his eyes follow the rhythm for a moment. There’s zero trace of you and yet he still remembers your clothes mingling with his own, shoes neatly stacked in the massive closet that you still kept in boxes. He had to hand it to you. You’d caught him off guard when he came home late, intent on seeing you asleep when everything you owned had disappeared.

He’d been silent when he checked every room, every closet and drawer. You’d taken everything that belonged to you, leaving no note for your disappearance. But Ransom knew that you didn’t have to.

His indiscretions – ones that you knew about and didn’t – always came to light. You often asked why he married you, why he pretended to commit when he was willing to head across town and spend his nights with other women that weren’t you. Eventually, the tears dried up, silence falling between you both while he continued on, not even making excuses when he would leave for the night.

The light flicks on, flooding the bathroom with harsh white light as he turns on the shower. He’d been cruel when you told him you one day you would leave him, all empty threats he’d heard before. You accused him of not loving you, packing up your things in a hurry when you could see the marks on his neck.

And he had agreed.

As stupid as it was, he had thought you’d be back home when he got back in the morning, the bed still made.

Days later, you were still gone. Voicemails not returned, text messages left on read as days turned into weeks.

And then you disappeared fully, divorce papers served days later. Still no response from you, requesting all correspondence go through your lawyer, Scott Huffman. You requested nothing from Ransom.

No alimony, no nothing.

A clean break.

His family wasn’t surprised. They’d been floored that he’d gotten married in the first place. His mother had been right, Ransom standing under the spray of the shower as her words circled in his ears.

“I give it a year. You aren’t the commitment type, Ransom,” Linda had told him, her hands on his shoulders while he looked at you, dancing with your father. “You’ll be just like your father. Pity. She’s a nice girl.”

-

Ransom looks down at the curious stare from a little girl who blinks at him. He stares back, hoping she’ll get the hint and turn back around. She finally does, leaning into the woman as she looks up at the barista. He feels another stare, this time from the other side of him, a little boy who gives him a hard look as he rocks on his heels.

Twins.

“Carter,” his mother chides gently. “It’s not polite to stare.”

“Kay,” he murmurs, his hand in hers.

But Ransom knows that voice. It all comes together when the little girl runs over to the bakery section, her little hands pressing on the glass, nose scrunched up against it..

“Leah,” comes the warning. “We don’t put our hands on the glass.”

“I want that one!” she squeaks, her hands behind her back at her mother’s warning as she nods toward the glass. “That one, Mommy.”

Ransom watches the way your body turns, leaning over to see what she’s pointing at.

“And a chocolate chip cookie,” you finish, looking down at Carter before he sees your smile at the twins. “Two, please.”

“Two chocolate chip cookies, two milks and an espresso,” the barista repeats. “Name?”

Ransom sucks in a breath when you reply, turning to collect them when your eyes meet. You say nothing, looking past him as if he doesn’t exist. He expects you to at least acknowledge him but you don’t, taking the twins' hands in yours before moving away from him.

“Come on,” you continue, guiding them away from the line. “Let’s go find a table.”

Ransom’s eyes follow you, the twins babbling about something while you nod in response, settling them at a table in the back, placing napkins around them for what Ransom knows will be a complete mess on the table.

Even as he orders, he can’t stop himself from turning around, watching you talk to them. It isn’t until he sees the little hand prop under Carter’s chin that he realizes that Carter looks like him. And Leah, when she ducks her head when she whispers to her brother, it’s the same move Ransom does when he’s making it obvious that he’s unimpressed with something or someone.

They look about three years old, Ransom doing the math in his head. The timeline would match when you’d left him for good. But he knows he can’t get close. Not without a fight. The way you looked past him, like he didn’t exist meant that you were finished.

But Ransom has always been up for a challenge.

-

Carter sips his milk while Leah breaks up her cookie with tiny expert fingers under your watchful eyes. You know he’s still looking, even when you ask them what they want to do with the rest of their day. The twins have been obsessed with wanting to be ‘like Mommy’, right down to their own little coffee cups that are filled with juice or water in the mornings. It’s a little slice of heaven when they get to go inside the coffee shop, dunking their artisanal cookies in coffee cups of milk that dribble over the napkin covered table.

It all comes back as your hands grip your cup, hearing their little conversation that makes no sense to no one but them as it begins to fade with every passing thought of what Ransom put you through.

You have to force yourself to let it go again. You’ve worked so hard to get past that point, where grief and anger took hold, even when you were in labor, no one around but your parents to tell you that it would be fine, they’d take the place of him and your precious babies you welcomed into the world would never know the cruelty that he could inflict.

And they didn’t have to worry about that world that you removed yourself from, opening your mouth to accept a bite of milk soaked cookie from Carter.

“It’s good,” you praise, Carter shoving the rest of it in his mouth after he smiles.

Leah’s eyes flicker up as you hear Ransom approach. The dread pools in your gut when you place your coffee cup down, swallowing down your fears before you finally look at him.

“Ransom,” you greet. “Can I help you?”

“Hello to you too,” Ransom quips, his gaze going to Leah and Carter. “Yours?”

“Yes.” You don’t mean to sound possessive but you have no other choice.

“How old?”

“Three!” Carter pipes up, showing three fingers as Leah nods in response.

“Three years old.” Ransom looks at them for a moment. “Interesting.”

“Did you come over here for something or to observe my children?”

“You mean our children.”

Your back straightens. It’s spoken quietly, not even loud enough for the twins to hear as they finish their milk, messing with the napkins that ball into their fists.

“No,” you argue. “Mine. You don’t deserve them. Or to get to know them.”

Leah, always your helper, stacks the napkins in a messy pile.

“You ready to go?” you ask them, Carter pushing his cup toward the middle while they both nod. “Let’s go to the park and burn off some of that energy.”

The scrape of the chairs at your suggestion of the park is frantic, Leah’s little hands grabbing the napkins as she makes her way to the trash bin.

“Bye,” Carter says with a wave toward Ransom.

It takes every ounce of courage to move past him with your head held high, their hands in yours while you guide them out of the coffee shop. You don’t want to think about how different your life would be if Ransom had been someone else. That you wouldn’t be doing this alone.

-

The line finally picks up, silence on the other end. The grip on his phone is tight, his breath finally leaving his body as he sees you guide them to your car.

“Tell me the truth,” Ransom begins, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “How long have you known about them?”

More silence.

He wonders about their birth, their baby pictures and you – the one that got away – and tears rise to the surface, out of anger or anguish, he isn’t sure. That life that he’d thought of once upon a time, fulfilling that void, to be the man you had begged him to be was right in front of him and he’d let it fall to pieces by his own actions.

“Tell me, goddamn it.”

“I’ve known since she found out.”

“And you weren’t going to tell me?”

“No,” Harlan says finally. “I wasn’t. She deserved some peace.”

Chapter Text

Scott looks up at you, trying to smile as you feel the weight get heavier on your shoulders. You can tell the news he’s going to give you won’t be something you want to hear. Even in the safety of his office, it still feels like you’re suffocating.

“Ransom is not asking for joint custody,” Scott begins, watching your eyes fill with tears as he pauses. “But he is asking for visitation.”

“I don’t have options, do I?”

“It could play out one of two ways. You can go the route of assuming he is not the father but he’ll pursue testing to verify paternity, potentially counter suing in the process, even asking for joint custody. Or we agree to what we already know and allow for visitation.”

“He didn’t even know they existed until a few weeks ago.” You feel your chest getting tighter, your breaths shallow. “This isn’t fair.”

“It isn’t, I know that,” Scott agrees, watching you wipe away angry tears. “But he has rights.”

“But he shouldn’t. I didn’t ask for anything in the divorce. I just wanted to be away. And he was fine with it.”

“I know. I’m so sorry. We play nice and maybe he’ll back off.”

“He won’t,” you sniffle, the tissue box in hand as you pluck one out. “It’s Ransom.”

-

Ransom surveys your apartment for a moment, the sound of Leah and Carter playing in the background while you stay silent. You know he’s already adding up how you can afford this place.

Because you can’t.

Harlan moved you here when you gave birth, not talking no for an answer when you told him you would move back in with your parents. Not that he needs to know that. Harlan also won’t let you return any money that continues to be deposited into your account weekly, reminding you that he’s merely taking care of you and the twins as he should.

“Mommy?” Carter asks, skidding to a stop when he spies Ransom. “Who’s dat?”

You lower yourself to his level, adjusting his shirt and smoothing it out as you try to find the words. It’s supposed to be simple but it makes you want to cry. There are no words to explain who Ransom is and why he’s suddenly appeared.

“This is your dad,” you begin, Leah looking up at Ransom when she turns the corner, both of them looking up at Ransom with innocent eyes.

“Dad,” Carter repeats with a nod when he points at Ransom. “Dat's Dad.”

“It is, yeah,” you rush out, trying to breathe. “He’s here to spend some time with you. Is that okay?”

“Uh huh,” Leah chimes in for Carter.

Ransom stands still, still watching them, not saying a word. But you can see the beginnings of a smile on his lips that makes you frustrated. He’s happy to see them, this much you know by his gaze. But there is a part of you that wants to remain selfish, to tell him they are still all yours, even if they look like him.

“Alright. I’ll be in the next room, okay? Be good.”

“You aren’t staying in here?” Ransom asks as you get to your feet.

“No,” you answer him curtly, turning on your heels. “The door will be open if you need anything.”

By the time you get to your bedroom, you fight back the tears that threaten to fall. Gripping the bedspread, you hear Leah and Carter down the hall, talking loudly as the sound of toys shuffle. He doesn’t deserve to have their attention, or their adorable little smiles when something brings them joy.

Not when he brought you so much pain.

You remember the smell of sex on him when he’d walk past you to the en suite, trying to still your breathing so it appeared you were still asleep, even when you felt your heart breaking. The ones you knew and caught him in a lie about. And the ones his friends would confess when you would call, wondering why he was out so late.

And it ended with his confession, spoken quietly when you reached your breaking point one night, shoving clothes into a bag while he watched you move around the bedroom, making no attempt to stop you from leaving to head to your parents’ house. Perhaps it hurt worse, knowing that he agreed with what you knew all along.

Ransom Drysdale never loved you.

“Leah’s asking for something called Doc McStuffins? I don’t know what that is…” Ransom trails off as you wipe your face, standing up at the sight of him. He says nothing at the sight of your tears, his mouth moving for moment as if he wants to say something before you interrupt.

“I’ll get it,” you answer, wiping your eyes quickly. “It’s her favorite show.”

Once you find it, you place the DVD into the slot, handing him the remote as Leah settles onto the couch, Carter making a face at the title screen.

“Don’t wike it,” Carter announces, reaching for the remote in Ransom’s hand. “Spider-Man.”

“No! My show!”

You can feel the meltdown coming, Ransom still gripping the remote as Carter reaches for it.

“That’s enough,” you remind them. “She gets her time, Carter. You get yours after.”

Carter slumps in his seat, pouting so hard that it breaks your heart a little.

“Carter,” you try gently. “We share TV time, remember?”

His arms cross over his chest, looking up at Ransom hopefully.

“I wan’ watch my show,” he tells him. “Pwease Dad?”

“Your mom is right,” Ransom says. “Let her watch then it’s your turn.”

Carter’s shoulders dip in defeat and he leans against Ransom with a hard huff. You hadn’t expected him to take to Ransom that easily. Leah turns back around, waiting impatiently for him to start her show.

“Play,” Leah orders Ransom as you shake your head.

“Manners, Leah,” you remind her as she bows her head.

“Sowwy,” Leah apologizes softly, turning her attention to Ransom. “Play, please.”

With the crisis averted, you head back to your room, hearing the cartoon begin to play while you try to force him out of your mind.

-

It isn’t that Ransom hates kids. He was one once.

But the energy is unmatched of the twins, quiet one minute and fighting the next. It’s too quiet now, Ransom breaking up a fight by simply separating them with a single gentle sweep of his hand, Carter on one side of the couch and Leah on the other, both enthralled with their iPads that Ransom had pulled from the bookshelf. He’s not sure if they are allowed to have them at the moment, seeing as they were hidden from view but it works for the moment and he’ll take the peace and quiet.

You’re asleep on your side as he walks slowly into the bedroom. It feels like he doesn’t belong, looking at the pictures of the twins as babies on your dresser, including one of the three of you at a pumpkin patch, his eyes focusing on it for a moment. He can almost imagine himself standing next to you, the pumpkins bigger than they were when the picture was taken. Though you look happy, he examines the picture of see the circles under your eyes, your tired smile on display.

He wonders how long it’s been since you actually had a chance to have an interrupted sleep. As it stands, he knows he’s already exhausted just watching them. There’s something about knowing that those two are half his – right down to the little smirk that flashes across Carter’s face when he moves closer to the edge of the couch when the credits flow on the screen and he knows it’s his turn and to Leah’s dismissal of her brother when she takes his seat after he gets up to make sure he has his Spider-Man action figure. By Leah’s standard – and Ransom’s – he’s forfeited his spot, even as Carter tries to argue his point in a language that Ransom is still trying to decipher at times.

Everything is devoid of him inside this space. A picture of your parents holding the twins when they were still in diapers and as he finds, leaning forward, Harlan with the twins at the hospital. That picture gets his blood boiling, anger rising to the surface at the thought of his own grandfather keeping this a secret from him.

Deep down, he had expected this from you. The pain he’d inflicted on you, the way you’d never looked back, all of it made sense. He remembered the look on your face when he’d told you he didn’t love you, the words leaving his mouth as what little light was left in your eyes completely disappeared.

You’d been perfect for him. Not afraid to call him out on his bullshit, falling for him before you even knew what was happening. You didn’t need his money, preferring to pay for yourself even when he would do it anyway. Commitment was supposed to be easy when you were in love. And he wasn’t sure what love was. That was your big deal breaker, you’d told him on a drive up the coast. Cheating was a hard no, even as he nodded along in agreement, knowing that he already had. He couldn’t love you, not with what he’d done.

But to lose you, to see someone else at your side? He couldn’t stomach the thought, even when he was washing off someone else’s lipstick. So when you found out, furious as your mascara ran down your face, he knew you were in so deep that you’d always come back, silently forgiving him because he could be good for a few weeks, maybe a month until the domestic life got to be boring again and he couldn’t bear to apologize for a woman that he couldn’t even remember the name of.

It was that night when he realized your things were gone, the closets completely cleaned out that it had been methodical, knowing he was gone on a boy’s trip, giving you enough time to clear out everything. Things that he bought you were placed in a box on his side of the bed, including your engagement and wedding rings, right down to the earrings he bought you on your first anniversary.

He felt it then, the guilt that finally rose up and caused a week of stomach pain that he couldn’t get rid of, downing antacids like they were candy. The stress had already set in and he found himself listening to your voicemail that you’d swiftly send him to until he was blocked. There was no contact between you both, both lawyers admitting that it was an easy break. You wanted nothing to do with him and there were no assets that you had that didn’t already belong to him.

Ransom can’t help but look on as you sleep, your shuddered breaths confirming that you had been crying. He knows he’s the cause and he isn’t sure if he can try to ever make it right, no words to say that would change how you view him.

“Mommy,” Carter says loudly as Ransom spins to catch the toddler who is currently hurtling toward your bed.

“Hang on,” Ransom says, lifting him up as Carter squirms. “She’s asleep.”

“I’m hungry,” Carter announces, Leah tugging on Ransom’s pant leg.

“Me too,” she pipes up.

“Okay, okay,” Ransom relents, taking a step back as they follow him. “What do you usually eat for lunch?”

“Pizza,” they say in unison as Ransom arches an eyebrow in suspicion.

“I’m sure,” Ransom says with a shake of his head. “No pizza.”

-

When you wake, the smell of pizza hits your nose and you jump up with a start, hearing Ransom’s laughter as Leah and Carter follow, their little shrieks echoing down the hall while you toss off the blanket.

“Watch Daddy!” Leah urges, snuggling up to Ransom as Aladdin plays on the TV, the Genie shifting into a slot machine as she giggles.

A pizza box, two juice boxes and an array of paper plates line the table as you blink at the scene in front of you.

“Mommy, pizza,” Carter points to the box, still chewing on a crust, marinara sauce smeared on his cheek.

“You bought them pizza?” you ask Ransom, his head turning toward you as a sheepish smile pulls at his lips.

“Yeah, they were pretty insistent,” he replies, both kids tucked on either side of him.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I should have made them dinner.”

“They’ve been good for the most part.”

Their stares of adoration at Ransom make you blink back tears. You know it isn’t their fault. He’s the hero of the day, watching movies and getting them pizza. He hasn’t been there when there are meltdowns and refusals to take a bath or go to bed. You’ve had to do this all by yourself.

“Is your visit over then?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, his voice more serious this time.

“You said you wanted to see them. You saw them.”

He gets up from the couch, the twins looking up at him in curiosity before he motions his head to the movie.

“I’ll be back. Tell me what happens next.”

You step back into your bedroom, pacing as he leans against the doorway.

“You wanted visitation,” you begin, your nervous energy flowing down to your hands as you flex them in and out. “What did that mean?”

“This,” Ransom answers, motioning to the entire apartment. “I want to see my kids.”

“They are my children, not yours. As far as I’m concerned, you were a sperm donor and nothing else.”

“Hey,” Ransom snaps, moving from the doorway. “I’m more than that and you know it.”

“Really? Because a father wouldn’t have cheated on me throughout our marriage or not even notice when I was pregnant.”

“How was I supposed to know?”

“Because I waited up for you one night! And you came home…” you inhale sharply, turning away from him. “Smelling like someone else.”

“You still should have told me.”

“Then? Would that have been a good time? Knowing you’d just cheated on me? Again? You’re a sperm donor, Ransom. They would have been better off not knowing you existed.”

“Yeah? And my grandfather funds all of this, doesn’t he? Because he knew I was a father and didn’t say shit either.”

“We both agreed it was best. You admitted you never loved me. Why on earth would you think me having twins would change that behavior?”

“I would have changed.”

“No you wouldn’t. You never had before,” you hiss, looking him right in his eyes. “I hate you.”

Your words hang in the air, Ransom’s jaw clenching while you take another step forward.

“You don’t deserve them, Ransom and you know that. You don’t get to come into their lives and act like you were there the entire time. But I’ll abide by the court’s decision. I don’t have a choice.”

“I guess not,” Ransom answers with a sigh. “I want to be in their lives.”

“Then do it. Just stay out of mine.”

At the sound of a little voice, you push past him, hearing Leah’s pained whimper.

-

Ransom is careful when he slips Leah into bed, her eyes still closed when she pulls on his sweater, pushing her face against his chest as she hiccups. He doesn’t want to think about how so much throw-up could come out of such a little person but he knows it’s because of the pizza. You’d pushed him out of the bathroom, cleaning it up like you’d done it a million times. As Ransom settled Leah in bed, he realized that it was probably because you had.

She was stubborn just like him, still not letting him go as he tried to peel her hands away, shaking her head and mumbling into his chest.

“No Daddy,” she whimpered, her little body going slack with exhaustion. “Stay.”

He goes still, waiting for long minutes until her breathing is even, pulling himself out of the too small bed while he sees you, putting away the mop while you wipe your brow. He’s preening at the idea of Leah latching onto him, completely accepting that he is her father.

“She’s out,” Ransom informs you, your head giving a short nod. “Need anything before I head out?”

“No,” you answer, putting away the cleaning supplies. “Thank you for keeping her calm.”

He can tell you’re tired, the way you lean against the kitchen counter for a moment, eyes bleary before you snap out of it and straighten up.

“I’ll set up some time to see them again,” Ransom tells you, heading toward the door. “Or I can have my lawyer do it if you’d prefer me not getting involved.”

“That’s probably best,” you answer behind him.

Even when he stands outside, he can still feel the coldness of how you dismissed him, the only thing keeping him going is the sound of the twins’ laughter that he replays in his mind when he fishes his keys out of his coat pocket, finding a little Lego in the process.

Your words still cut him, knowing that he can’t say anything that won’t make you hate him any less. It isn’t right. He knows this, even as he dials the same number he did before, waiting for Harlan to pick up and tell him he’s a fool.

“So you saw them,” Harlan greets. “Angels, aren’t they? And Carter… so much of you in that kid.”

“I know.”

“That’s it? You know? Did you offer to make amends? Tell her you’re sorry?”

Ransom’s silence tells him everything he needs to know.

“You really are a fool,” Harlan sighs. “There’s much of this life you don’t deserve, Ransom. You have a family to look after.”

“She hates me,” Ransom blurts out, the admittance burning on his tongue. It shouldn’t hurt, he knows that. But it does anyway, knowing that you want nothing to do with him, even though you’re connected together with two little toddlers who have his mannerisms down and your attitude.

“Of course she does. Did you expect her to roll out the red carpet for a cheater? Who abandoned her when she needed you the most?”

“She left me!”

“And it was for the better. She almost lost them.”

“She what?”

“Ransom, do you realize the pain you inflicted on her was also physical? A manifestation of your cruelty that almost caused a miscarriage. Be thankful you got to see them.”

“Was anyone going to fucking tell me about this?”

“Perhaps,” Harlan says louder. “But considering your affinity for other women who weren’t your wife, would you have even noticed? You have a chance to turn your life around. You don’t get to talk about what ifs or the past. Your history is well documented for what you’ve done in the past. Go be a goddamn father and grow up.”

Chapter Text

It’s been a whirlwind three months, fall beginning to settle in Boston as Leah and Carter run around Harlan’s compound under Ransom’s watchful eyes. Harlan doesn’t say a word as he takes his seat across from him, the crisp air swirling around the trees while Leah squeals for Carter when he gets distracted by a pile of leaves that he jumps into as Leah follows.

“They’re going to tire themselves out before dinner,” Harlan observes with a slight shake of his head and a wide smile. “To be young again.”

Ransom is silent, watching his son and daughter continue to play. The frosty reception is something Harlan is used to nowadays. The more responsibility Ransom takes on, the more he resents Harlan from hiding his children from him.

“I don’t expect you to talk to me much,” Harlan continues, pulling his gaze away from his grandchildren. “Nor do I expect you to accept the praise I’m about to give you. You’ve grown up in these short months, Ransom. I didn’t expect it but you’ve proved me wrong.”

The silence that falls between them is tense before Ransom finally speaks.

“I don’t need to prove anything to anyone.”

“Maybe so.” Harlan leans back in his chair, giving Ransom a hard stare. “But your time is mostly spent with the twins these days. Did you ask for more visitation?”

“No,” Ransom answers. “She opened up the schedule so I get them three days a week, sometimes four if I ask for it.”

“So you’re talking again.”

“No.” Ransom swallows hard. “It still goes through her lawyer.”

“Ah,” Harlan answers, noting Ransom’s somber expression. “I take it you haven’t had a conversation since that night at her apartment.”

Ransom shrugs, playing with his signet ring.

“She says nothing but two words to me unless it’s instructions for the kids.”

“Do you want her to talk to you?”

“It would be nice,” Ransom snaps, losing his cool. “She kept my kids from me and you’re complicit in it as well and now everyone wants to pretend I’m the bad guy in this situation when I didn’t know they existed.”

“Ransom, I know this is hard for you. But I did what had to be done to protect them. To protect her. She doesn’t owe you a single thing except what you asked for, which is to see your children and you have. I know you said that you would have changed had you found out that you were going to be a father but I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that you would have changed. Honestly. You tell me that you would have stopped cheating on her, made amends and became the man you should have been from the beginning.”

Ransom can’t bring himself to look his grandfather in the eye, slumping back down in his seat with a hard sigh. He would be different now. This much he knows, remembering how you spoke your instructions for him and what time you would home for him to drop them off, like you were reading the weather.

“I thought so,” Harlan answers. “We can’t change our past. No one can do that. But we take those lessons and we apply them to the present and the future. You already have. But you cannot expect her to give up a piece of herself that you broke.”

“Daddy!” Leah shouts, Ransom’s attention going to her as she holds up a golden leaf. “Look! Pwetty!”

“It is,” Ransom agrees. “You wanna come inside yet?”

“No!”

Both of them shake their heads before they take off running again.

-

With Ransom taking the twins, you were free to finally get your grocery shopping done. And with it, your stubbornness to not make two trips was in full effect, your fingers throbbing with the bags in your hands while you made your way toward the door slowly. Usually it was three trips, sometimes four if your hands didn’t want to cooperate.

You heard the slip of the bag crash to the ground while you found your keys, looking down in despair as the contents of it rolled out into the hallway.

“Great,” you mutter, placing the bags in front of your door.

“Let me help you.”

A golden haired, handsome man crouches down to help you, leaning the bag up as he places the contents of it back inside. There’s nothing you can do but let him help, watching as he places the bag close to the others. He’s dressed in gym clothes but you can make out almost every single muscle under his tight shirt.

“Thank you,” you murmur, giving him a grateful smile. “Sorry you had to see my stubbornness on display. I hate making two trips.”

“Stubbornness? I think some would call that efficiency,” the man says, standing at his full height as he holds out his hand. “Steve Rogers. I just moved in down the hall.”

As you shake his hand, his grip is powerful and he smiles once you tell him your name. It’s a genuine smile that makes you feel at ease.

“Welcome. I’ve been here for about three years. It’s a nice place.”

“Seems like it. I’m a pediatric doctor, just opened up a new office down the street. Within walking distance so it all works out.”

“Pediatric doctor, wow, that’s great,” you reply, realizing that you still need to get inside to put your things away. “Now I know if I need any advice, I’ll come to you.”

It’s a light joke but Steve takes the bait anyway.

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you answer. “I have three-year-old twins.”

“That sounds adorable.”

“They are,” you agree with a smile at the thought of them. “So I apologize if you ever hear any screaming. They’re going through their not wanting to share phase. And sometimes oversharing their feelings.”

“I assure you I won’t mind.”

Once you get the door open, you pick up the bags, hesitating for a moment before you turn around.

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Rogers. Thanks for helping me. I appreciate it.”

“Steve,” he replies with a smile. “And don’t mention it.”

-

It’s a new office, something you aren’t familiar with and you realize that for the past three years, Scott’s office has been your solace, a place to vent and to cry when your world gets too heavy. But a new job opportunity presented itself and you were happy for him, knowing he would get more recognition and with another baby on the way, his wife wouldn’t have to work, something she’d told you she was excited about, to be a stay at home mother for a little while.

Which is how you found yourself in Andy Barber’s office, a close friend of his that was more than happy to take on your case. Ransom’s visitations include overnights, even though you’re nervous that he’ll bring someone over. But as your children like to report back, they’ve had fun spending time with him and they end up coming back home with more toys, clothes and shoes than they would leave with, no other people mentioned.

When Andy finally enters, he places a cup of coffee in front of you.

“Two sugars and a splash of cream like you requested,” he says quietly, returning to his seat as he studies you for a moment. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” you reply. “He hasn’t asked for anything else, has he?”

Andy flips through your file.

“As far as I know, he hasn’t. That could change, considering Scott let me know you have the okay for overnights and his visitation increased from one day to three. If he did request joint custody, would you be okay with that?”

You swallow hard at his question.

“No.”

Andy’s blue eyes flicker up to yours as he places his pen down.

“Scott told me that you’ve been communicating through him and Mr. Drysdale’s lawyer. Is there any interest in having a mediated discussion to decide what you want to do?”

“No interest,” you answer quickly. “I don’t want to speak with him. I’m sure Scott told you everything I’ve gone through.”

Andy nods slowly, closing the file.

“He did,” Andy acknowledges. “But in a perfect world, what would this look like for him and seeing his children? I’m on your side, I want you to know that. But I’m getting the feeling that you aren’t really happy with the arrangement.”

“I have to be.”

“Says who?”

“Me,” you admit. “I can’t keep him from the kids. Even after everything he did to me. The arrangement can stay. They need their father.”

Andy is silent for a moment before he scribbles down some notes.

“Alright. Then it stays. But promise me that if you feel any different, that you’ll let me know.”

“I promise.”

“I’ll speak with Mr. Drysdale’s lawyer tomorrow. Nothing major, just introducing myself and we continue on as before. Sound good?”

“Yes.”

“It’s gonna be okay,” Andy promises you. “I know people don’t like hearing that they are brave in circumstances that they can’t change, especially because you don’t have any other choice but it’s admirable that you still want to do the right thing.”

-

Ransom hears laughter when he knocks on the door, waiting as he hears little feet pounding toward it.

“Wait, wait,” you remind them. “What do we say?”

“Who is it?” Carter bellows.

“It’s Dad,” Ransom answers with a laugh.

“Mommy! It’s Daddy!”

“I heard,” you answer gently, opening the door.

Ransom doesn’t expect to see you dressed like you are, wearing a black cocktail dress with matching black pumps.

“Come in,” you tell him, opening the door wider.

Once again, he knows that is the extent of what he’ll get from you. But he can’t help but stare. You look good – gorgeous – and he knows that he has zero right to ask you anything but he does it anyway.

“Date?”

You pretend to ignore him, leaning down to kiss Leah and Carter as they bounce around you and Ransom with their backpacks stuffed to the brim.

“I wan’ watch a movie,” Leah announces, pulling on Ransom’s pant leg as she lifts her arms to be held.

“And ice cweam,” Carter adds.

Another knock at the door breaks Ransom’s concentration, watching the sway of your hips while you answer the door.

“Steve!” the twins shout at the sight of him, Leah squirming to get down as they run toward him.

Steve picks up the twins as they shriek, only to look back at Ransom as he places Leah and Carter gently back down onto the carpet.

“Steve Rogers,” he introduces himself with a nod. “You must be Ransom.”

Ransom’s jaw clenches at the sight of him as he nods. He didn’t expect this. It takes every ounce of restraint not to lash out, even though he knows he has no right to. It’s a struggle to swallow down the feeling of comparison, Ransom keeping his eyes on the hyper twins that circle around the three of you like tiny sharks.

He knows he shouldn’t be surprised that you’d start dating. But seeing it hits him like a punch to the gut.

But he can’t blame you, even if jealousy threads through him at the sight of the man that is standing too close to you. Maybe if he hadn’t ruined his relationship with you, you would have talked to him and he would have known about Steve, this man who seems to hold your attention.

And his kids.

“Got your stuff?” Ransom asks the twins.

“Yeah!”

“Okay, let’s go.” He herds them toward the door, waiting for you to say anything.

Something.

“Bye sweethearts,” you call out. “Be good.”

When the door closes, Ransom stands outside for a minute, trying to cool down from what he’s just witnessed. It’s bad enough that he’s heard your new lawyer seems to have a thing for you but now to see someone else in your life, even if it’s just a new thing, makes him want to demand for something more.

But he’s hurt you enough.

“Let’s go,” Leah orders, pulling on his hand.

He continues down the hallway, still thinking of you before he presses the button for the elevator. Ransom remembers how you used to look at him. Stealing glances across the table, falling asleep with your head on his chest because as you told him once, ‘it was the perfect place to fall asleep’. His fingers twitch at the thought of how you used to grab his hand, pulling him through random parks because you loved walks in the fall. When the elevator doors close, he can remember how nervous you were meeting his family, wanting to protect him after he’d told you about his family. To the tears in your eyes when he asked you to marry him and the tears that followed when you were walking down the aisle.

All now distant memories.

“No sad, Daddy,” Leah says softly, pulling on his sweater.

It isn’t until he feels a tear roll down his cheek that he realizes that he was crying. He blinks, shaking his head for a moment.

“Okay?” Carter asks, both of the twins looking up at him with sad eyes.

“I’m okay,” Ransom soothes, forcing a smile as they relax at his gentle tone. “Just something in my eyes.”

-

“The end,” Ransom finishes, watching Leah cuddle up against her teddy bear.

“Night-night, Daddy,” Leah whispers as Ransom kisses her cheek.

“Goodnight. Tomorrow we’ll make pancakes, okay?”

“Kay.”

He stands, closing the door slightly as she settles back into bed.

When he reaches Carter’s room, his son is still wide awake, playing with his toys as Ransom leans against the doorway.

“Bedtime, bud,” Ransom reminds him as he looks up at his father, shaking his head.

“I miss Mommy.”

Me too, Ransom thinks.

It’s been three weeks since he last saw you with Steve before your date, the twins telling them all about how he takes them to the park. How he has a ‘big job’. And then there is Andy, your ‘friend’ who came to baby-sit them when you had a scheduling conflict. He let them watch their favorite cartoons and eat ice cream.

Ransom wonders if the twins ever mention him to you.

“You’ll see her tomorrow,” Ransom finishes. “Time for bed though.”

“Mommy gets sad,” Carter says with a shake of his head. “Wan’ Mommy.”

“Sad?” Ransom asks, lowering himself to Carter’s level.

“Mommy gets sad,” Carter repeats. “She hides her face.”

“Does Mommy cry?”

“Uh huh,” Carter tells him, picking up his toys. “I make it better.”

“I’m sure you do, bud,” Ransom praises. “You’re brave.”

“I know,” Carter replies, climbing into his bed. “Mommy tells me.”

Carter yawns as Ransom plucks out his favorite bedtime story from the bookshelf.

“You ready?” Ransom asks, sitting on the edge of the bed, trying not to think about you crying.

“Yeah.”

-

Andy sits across from you while you look over the menu. You’re supposed to be keeping your options open and this option is not one you expected. Steve has been busy with work but he understands that you can’t commit, not right now. Nor can he, with how involved he’s been with opening a new office. But the desire is there, for something more one day, possibly, even with little dates here and there.

But Andy is a different story. This upscale restaurant is exclusive, taking months to get a reservation that he was able to snag within a few hours. Even after you’ve told him the truth, that you can’t commit to anything serious until you figure out your life and that you’ve already been seeing someone, that didn’t deter him from asking you to dinner.

“Order whatever you want,” Andy reminds you as the waiter pours you a glass of wine. “I figured it would be nice for you to get out and be pampered for a little.”

“This is nice,” you admit. “I’m still floored that you got a reservation but I appreciate this.”

“Don’t mention it,” Andy says with a smile. “No client talk tonight.”

“Is this even allowed?”

Andy raises an eyebrow as he smirks.

“You said it yourself,” he begins, taking a sip of his wine. “You aren’t looking for a commitment and I respect that. Nor am I trying to take advantage of your situation. But I think this is the most I’ve seen you smile in weeks.”

“That didn’t answer my question,” you tease, liking the sound of his laughter.

“It isn’t not allowed,” he answers finally. “Maybe I’m being a little selfish. I wish you could see yourself the way others do. I know your boyfriend, Steve, is it? He sees it.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you reply with a shake of your head.

“So you’re available,” Andy flirts back.

“Andy Barber,” you admonish before you both start laughing. “I’m a mother of twins who can’t believe that people are interested in getting to know someone like me.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

“I think it’s the other way around. The rest of us can’t believe you would grace us with your presence.”

“I’m not that special.”

“Don’t do that,” Andy tells you, his voice low. “Don’t let whatever he did to you make you feel like you aren’t worth it, that you aren’t special. This dinner may very well be just a dinner and I’d be fine with that. But you don’t get to think that you aren’t worthy when you are. He didn’t deserve you and he’s lucky that he has the twins in his life. That’s all he deserves. You decided you wanted better for you and your children and you left because you decided that you were worth it and better off without him. Don’t think any differently. Understand?”

You give a short nod as you try to ignore the tears brimming in your eyes.

“I may have to fight Steve over many things but I think we can agree on that,” Andy finishes. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I feel like he’s done enough of that.”

“It’s okay,” you reply before you take a sip of your wine. “You’re right.”

-

Ransom places their backpacks on the counter as Leah and Carter grab onto your legs, talking over each other as they replay everything they did over their last weekend before Leah remembers her question.

“Punkins, Daddy,” Leah reminds Ransom. “We gotta go.”

“Mommy’s coming too,” Carter replies.

You blink in confusion, Ransom giving them a nod.

“The kids want to go to a pumpkin patch,” Ransom begins, your eyes going to their little heads bobbing up and down.

“I can take them,” you reply. “I know where to go.”

“Wan’ Daddy to come,” Leah answers.

“And Steve!” Carter answers.

You can see Ransom’s eyes narrowing at the mention of Steve’s name. Not that it matters or is any of his business but you know that you’re stuck.

“Maybe Daddy can take you one day and I can take you the next. You get two visits.”

“Noooo,” Leah wails. “Both!”

“Both!” Carter joins in.

“It’s just for a day,” Ransom tells you. “For the kids.”

When you take too long to answer, you can see Leah’s eyes begin to water.

“Pwease Mommy?” she pleads.

“Okay,” you answer quickly, crouching down to wipe her eyes. “No tears, okay? I’ll go.”

She throws herself into your arms, snuggling against you as her little arms wrap around your neck.

“Like one, happy family,” Ransom says over your head. “Right Carter?”

Carter nods his head in front of you.

“Yeah!”

Chapter Text

Two years ago.

You balance the twins on your lap, settling down on the couch. Your eyes well up when you pick up the remote, unsure of your plan. They’re quiet when you press play, Ransom on screen as you swallow hard. It’s your wedding video, all in thanks to Linda who was hellbent on having a videographer follow your every move and Ransom’s.

Ransom is leaning against the railing, a beer in his hand as he laughs at a joke. Carter smiles at the sound.

“That’s Daddy,” you manage, your voice thick with emotion. “His name is Ransom.”

Carter babbles as Leah blinks, Ransom looking into the camera as he waves. Leah waves back as Carter follows suit before they dissolve into giggles.

“Anything you want to tell her?” the videographer asks. “Any words before you see her?”

“That I love you,” Ransom responds, your eyes closing at his failed promise, a tear running down your cheek. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

“Da-da,” Carter murmurs, your head lifting at his words. You know it’s his usual babble but it hits a nerve.

The video cuts to you and Leah brightens. You remember that day so vividly, even if you don’t want to. You looked so happy. Unaware of what the future would bring you.

“Mama,” she croons, pushing herself forward as you hold her close. “Ma-ma!”

“I’m right here,” you say gently, smoothing back her hair as you kiss her cheek. “You see Mommy and Daddy?”

They need to know him, even if you aren’t sure they’ll ever have him in their lives. You’ve tried to show them as many pictures as you can, even if you know he doesn’t know they exist. Those moments where you used to want to call him, months before they were born when your belly was already double the size and your doctor’s appointments were scheduled weekly because of the stress brought on complications. It was those days that you made yourself put down the phone, to handle it alone because you knew that he wouldn’t be there even if he knew about them.

Despite this, they would know they had a father. Without knowing the ins and outs of his behavior, you could tell them Ransom was an only child. Great-Grandpa Harlan’s favorite grandchild. A lover of vintage cars, a man who had a beautiful smile.

To you, Ransom was a liar, a cheater, a man who never truly cared about you, regardless of appearances. You had to keep that to yourself. Show them the parts of him that were acceptable and let them form their own opinions. You have to separate the two.

They are transfixed on you and Ransom, watching you dance as he holds you close. You focus on their little hands that grip your fingers, holding them close as your chin hovers over their heads.

At least they can’t see you crying.

Present

Ransom watches your car pull into a parking space, the air chilly when he gets out of his own car. You insisted on meeting him here rather than meeting at your apartment and now he knows why. Steve steps out of a black Range Rover a few feet away from you as Ransom approaches.

He can hear the beginning of a meltdown as Leah’s piercing scream gets his attention. Goldfish crackers litter the floor of the backseat while you place Carter outside next to you, leaning over to unbuckle Leah from her seat.

“Absolutely not,” you speak softly to Leah as she stares at you, wide eyes. “We don’t scream because we don’t get our way.”

“Daddy,” Leah whines as Ransom ducks his head inside, her arms reaching out to him as fat tears slide down her cheeks.

He picks her up, her head resting on his shoulder. Carter pulls on his pant leg, wanting to be picked up too as Steve leans into the backseat, both of you picking up the crackers as you toss them into the plastic bag.

“Up,” Carter demands, Ransom looking down at him as Leah squirms.

“No, Carter!” Leah denies.

“Steve!” Carter howls, being swept off his feet as he’s settled on Steve’s shoulders.

At the close of the door, Ransom looks back at you, holding their jackets in your hands as you balance your purse and a backpack in your hands. You do this almost effortlessly until he remembers how tired you were the last time he saw you. You hide it well.

“Leah,” you call out, Ransom heading over to take the jacket from your hands as he puts her down. It’s a fight to have her stand, Leah whining before she sags against him.

“Gotta put your coat on,” Ransom reminds her, Leah letting him put it on as he zips it up. She rubs her eyes, reaching out for him again as he picks her up.

“Someone’s tired,” Ransom says above her head as Leah shakes her head.

“No tired,” comes her reply as she clings to him.

Carter lets Steve put him down, both of them watching you slip Carter into his coat. He doesn’t put up a fight, throwing his arms around you as you zip up his jacket.

“You ready for the pumpkin patch?” you ask him, Carter nodding quickly.

“Uh huh. Come on, Mommy,” Carter says, pulling on your hand. He grabs Steve’s in his other hand, pulling you both along as Ransom follows.

It looks natural, the way Carter fits between you and Steve, Leah yawning in his arms. He has a feeling that the meltdown is due to her fighting a nap, which Ransom knows will mean she will be out cold in less than an hour. Carter’s voice gets louder as the pumpkin patch comes into view, brightly colored signs and lights at the entrance get Leah’s attention as she squirms to get out of his arms.

“Hang on,” he tells her, letting her slide down as she takes off, Carter behind her. Two peas in a pod, Leah and Carter stop at a giant pumpkin, eyes wide with surprise.

“Mommy!” they shout in unison. “Look, look!”

“I see it,” you reply, heading over while Steve falls back.

It’s a photo op, a lady with a camera waiting off to the side as Leah circles you in excitement.

“I want it,” she tells you. “It’s big!”

“Would you like a photo?” the woman asks, the twins enamored with the giant pumpkin.

“Sure,” you answer. “Leah, Carter… do you want to get your picture taken with it?”

They bounce around you as you bend, holding both of them in your arms. It’s a tradition that you want to keep, even when they decide they are too old to do it.

“Say pumpkin!” the photographer coos, both Carter and Leah baring their teeth as they smile.

Another picture to add to the collection, Ransom thinks. Another one without him in it.

“Did… oh,” the photographer continues, looking back at Steve and Ransom sheepishly. “Did you want to get in the picture?”

Steve shakes his head, nodding toward Ransom as you stand at the mention of Ransom getting into the picture.

“Daddy!” Leah calls out. “Picture!”

Ransom watches you move away, the twins pressed up against his legs. He knows it’s a pipe dream to think that you would have posed for a picture with him and the twins. That happy family would be an illusion, Ransom holding them close as the flash goes off.

The twins take off, kicking up leaves in their midst as the woman hands him a polaroid. It doesn’t hit him until he steps away that this is the first picture he’s had of him and his children. The cold breeze makes his eyes burn as he blinks away tears, placing the photo in his pocket. He knows the perfect place he’ll put it.

-

Leah, obsessed with trains, climbs out of your lap and into Steve’s as it moves slowly past a corn maze. Carter sits on Ransom’s lap in front of you, pointing out everything he sees as Ransom listens. The way they converse, so matter of fact, makes you realize that your son is more like Ransom than you thought, right down to the raised eyebrow when Leah sighs dramatically.

“You alright?” Steve asks you, your eyes moving away from Ransom and Carter as you nod.

“I’m good,” you tell him, Leah’s eyes slowly closing. “Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for having me. This is fun. Haven’t been to a pumpkin patch since I was kid.”

Leah shifts in his arms, Steve giving you a concerned look when she presses her forehead against him.

“She’s really warm,” Steve murmurs, placing a hand to her forehead. “Burning up.”

Leah whimpers in her sleep, your hand going to her forehead as Ransom turns around. He’s right, a frown marring your lips as Ransom looks at Leah.

“What’s the matter?”

“She’s got a temperature,” Steve tells him, looking at his watch. “This ride is almost done but I can check her out once we’re done. I have a bag in my car.”

“Daddy,” Leah mumbles, shoving her head under Steve’s chin.

Ransom’s eyes meet yours for a moment and you pull your gaze away, focused on Leah while she sleeps.

When the train comes to a stop, Steve holds her close, Carter looking up at his sister while he walks with Ransom, who balances a bag of souvenirs for the twins while you walk next to Steve. In this moment, it almost feels domestic, as if you could live like this without giving it much thought. Despite Ransom’s silence, you had hoped for peace between him and Steve.

Steve settles Leah into her carseat, grabbing his bag from his vehicle as Ransom keeps Carter entertained.

Leah’s eyes flutter open at Steve’s gentle touch on her forehead.

“I want Daddy,” she whines, Steve nodding in agreement.

“He’s right outside, okay? He’ll be here in a minute. Can I take your temperature?” Steve asks her gently.

Leah shakes her head, her lips trembling as she closes her eyes.

“Daddy,” she whimpers, pushing Steve’s hand away.

“I’ll go get him,” you sigh, pulling yourself out from the backseat as Carter slaps his hands in a frenzied version of his own secret handshake. Judging by Ransom’s confused face, he can’t figure it out like Leah can.

“She needs you,” you say quietly. “Won’t let him take her temperature. I’ll stay with Carter.”

He heads toward the car as Carter digs in the bag.

“Did you have fun, sweetheart?”

“Uh huh,” Carter answers, still searching through the bag. “I wanna stay with Daddy.”

“When?”

“Tonight. I want pizza.”

You can’t help but look back at the open car doors, Steve getting out as he motions for you to come over.

“It isn’t too bad, low grade fever,” Steve informs you. “If you have any medication handy, I’d give her that and then monitor her fever throughout the night. Should be alright. If not, you know where to find me.”

When you look over, Ransom is soothing her, her little head on his shoulder as she sniffles.

“I better get going,” Steve says after a moment has passed. “Thanks for letting me tag along. I’ll call you tomorrow. Let me know how she is.”

He kisses your cheek, heat filling your cheeks before he bends down to be eye level with Carter, who finally plucks his lollipop from the bag, unaware of what has happened above him.

“Thanks for inviting me, buddy. I had fun.”

“Bye Steve!” Carter bellows, waving around his lollipop as Steve heads toward his car.

Ransom is still holding onto Leah when you place Carter in his carseat.

“She’s out,” Ransom confirms, carefully placing her back into her seat as he buckles her in. At the sound of the buckle, Leah lifts her head, reaching for him again.

“I have to go, sweetheart,” Ransom answers, swallowing at the sight of her tear filled eyes.

“Don’t go,” Leah cries, her lower lip sticking out as you buckle Carter in.

“He’ll come see you, okay?” you answer, tucking a blanket around her. “I promise.”

“No, I want Daddy,” she sobs, shaking her head.

“I can follow you home,” Ransom offers. “Stay with her a little bit.”

You don’t answer him except with a short nod.

-

Ransom replays the sight of Steve kissing your cheek as he tucks Leah under the covers. He doesn’t have any right to be upset, even as jealousy threads through his entire being. Rationally speaking, he knew that Leah calling Steve ‘Daddy’ was that she was half asleep, unaware of what she was saying. Emotionally, he wants to react, to tell you that the kids are too close to this man that you’ve never told him about.

He creates the scenario in his head if he was bold enough to tell you that. Whatever shaky truce that you’ve both found yourself committing to would be over, back to square one with your lawyers. He can’t lie to himself that he wasn’t thinking of you, both of you holding them as they pointed at the lights and begged for candy once you stepped foot inside the gift shop. He saw the looks of adoration from people when they noticed the twins, a happy family from an outsider’s view before he was snapped back to reality when Steve stepped inside the store.

“Is she asleep?” you ask him quietly, voice still devoid of emotion.

“Yeah,” Ransom answers you, looking down at Leah as he moves away from her bed.

“I need to set my alarm,” you murmur to yourself, stifling back a yawn.

“I was thinking,” Ransom pipes up, looking at Leah’s sleeping form. “Maybe I could spend the night. I can look after her.”

“I can do it.”

“You don’t have to do it alone,” Ransom offers. “I’ll sleep on the couch, check on her throughout the night.”

He doesn’t feel right leaving. Not when his baby girl is sick and time seems to fly by without an ounce of decency to let him take it in that he’s a father. You don’t look at him before you sigh, irritation in your voice when you leave the room.

“Fine.”

When he leaves her room, there’s pillows and a set of blankets left out, Carter fast asleep in his room when he hears the door to your bedroom close.

All four of you under the same roof. Ransom tosses the pillow on the armrest of the couch, kicking off his shoes as he tries to get comfortable. It feels foreign, knowing that you’re so close and yet so far away. He can tell you only relented for him to stay because of Leah and not for some hopeful reason that you’d need him.

He can’t sleep, pacing for a moment until his eyes settle on a small box.

Ransom holds the plastic box in his hand, debating on if he wants to open it, rehash the memories that he locked away years ago.

Tonight isn’t the night, he thinks.

The wedding video will have to wait until he’s strong enough to watch it.

Chapter Text

Three years ago

Ransom sniffs hard, the lines of cocaine lined up on the glass. It’s only a little blow, enough to keep him sated before the woman between his legs leans on his thighs with her forearms.

“Wanna kiss you,” she purrs, Ransom shaking his head. This isn’t sensual. It’s a transaction, one that Ransom knows she won’t think of as one. She’s an old hook up from years past, a notch on his bedpost from when he was in college.

And now she’s in this hotel room with him, pouting before she licks her lips and opens her mouth, swallowing his cock down to the root as he hisses, his hand going to her hair as he holds her in place. He keeps his eyes open because he knows if he closes them, he’ll think of you. This is much easier, being aware of his surroundings as the drugs begin to work through his system, mouth slightly parted as her tongue moves under the head of his cock.

His wedding ring burns a proverbial hole in his pocket, tucked away for safe keeping because he doesn’t want the questions or the guilt of having the ring touch any part of her that isn’t you. The hypocrisy of what he’s doing isn’t lost on him. You’re soft, so willing to do anything to make him happy that it overwhelms him. He should be home, doting on you hand and foot, kissing the ground you walk on for how you make him feel when the rest of the world makes him feel like nothing. 

He thinks about the past week.

Maybe he is nothing.

Walt caught him again, the last specks of white around his nose unable to be wiped away before he was kicking him out. Worst of all, he threatened to call Harlan and for a moment, Ransom wanted him to do it. There would at least be some accountability, someone to reel him back from this abyss he’d found himself in again. Someone to shake him sense into him, force him to face his demons that had come roaring back after another fight with parents, hellbent on proving he’d always be a fuck up. Instead, Ransom did what he did best and left, flipping him off before finishing the rest in his car because he would never do it at home. 

He’d promised you his days of using were over.

Her slight gagging on his cock snaps him back to reality, beads of sweat rolling down his temples before he cums, tilting his head back against the headrest of the chair. The guilt hits him like a semi-truck when he sees her smile, licking her lips before she exhales, giving him a smile. She isn’t you. She will never be you.

“Missed that,” she hums, her hand reaching for his cock before he pushes her hand away. Even with his phone on silent, the heartbeat vibration of your texts makes it worse as he zips up his pants.

“Where are you going?”

He can’t answer her, nor does he want to. The one person he owes an explanation to is in his bed, waiting for him to come home. 

“I’m leaving,” Ransom says in an almost pained snarl.

“Are you serious? You’re gonna use me for a blowjob and then dip?”

“Yeah,” Ransom swallows, standing up as he jams his hand in his pocket for his wedding ring, relief threading through him when he feels it. “Don’t make this out to be anything else than sharing some coke and reminiscing about old times.”

“You’re fuckin’ joking right? You never used to leave me. What, you got a girl now?” she mocks, and Ransom know she’s pissed. Once upon a time, she had wished she was his girl. She’d told him that much before.

“No,” Ransom lies, knowing that if she knew the truth, she’d dig to find you, tell you everything and then some to get back at him. He can’t handle his world falling apart.

His world leaving him behind.

When he closes the door behind him, he blinks back a tear that threatens to have him crumble. It isn’t right to want to go back to you, to beg his forgiveness silently while you hold onto him while you sleep. He knows he can’t. Not in this state of mind, still drugged out before he leans his head back against the seat and looks at your texts, innocently asking if he’s okay and if you need to pick him up.

He’ll sober up, shower and slip into bed and pray that you don’t ask him where he went.

-

Present

Ransom has to hand it to the twins. Despite the pieces of pancake on the table, they managed to keep the syrup solely on their plates, little bits of egg barely hanging on at the lip of the plate as Leah finishes her chocolate milk with Carter shoveling a piece of pancake in his mouth while he chews. Fortunately for Ransom, the breakfast place he picked out is family friendly, the servers coming over to engage with the twins and give them stickers and crayons, which Ransom knows will end up in the backseat of his car, the paper scrunched up and the crayons melted if he doesn’t remember to check before he drops them back off.

A sense of longing goes through him as he thinks about how it would be if you were here, sitting next to him with the twins across from you both. It’s a selfish thought, one that he allows himself to indulge in without a single word, enough to cause enough pain to make him move onto something different before he replays it before he goes to bed. The kids were up before the dawn, creeping out of their beds and into the living room where he was sleeping, only to have them climb on top of him, not so quietly whispering that they were hungry. With Leah’s fever broken and her insistent demands for food getting more whinier, Ransom got them ready quickly while you slept.

He hopes the note he left was enough, alerting you that the kids were with him and he was taking them out to breakfast. He had weighed his options on whether or not to wake you. He figured that your charity of letting him sleep on the couch was enough, let alone the key you had made him in the event he wanted to watch the kids. You needed your sleep, he told himself, wiping up a water spill from Carter’s hand that slapped Leah’s away when she went for a piece of bacon.

“Mine!” Carter reminded her before Ransom plucked it from his plate and ate it.

“You took it from my plate anyway,” Ransom reminds his son, who’s mouth drops open at the action. “I took it back.”

For a moment, Ransom is on edge, unsure if a tantrum will be birthed by his response before Carter moves on to his chocolate milk.

-

When you wake, the sun is up and you groan at the thought, reaching for your phone to look at the time. It’s well past when you would be awake as you rub your eyes, hearing nothing but silence when you slip out of bed. Calling out for the twins, you’re greeting with nothing back, opening the doors to their rooms and finding them empty as your heart skips a beat. Ransom is nowhere to be found, blood rushing through your head while you try to stave off an incoming anxiety attack. You tell yourself to be calm – there is no way that Ransom would take the kids away from you like this. Still, you’ve read horror stories from a parent gone rogue, kidnapping their own children and never being heard from again. Ransom has the money to do it, to be gone for years, even leaving Harlan in the dark.  

After a few minutes of pacing, you call him, hearing him pick up as Leah and Carter talk in the background.  

“Hey.”

“Where are they?” you ask, trying to keep your shaky voice calm.

“They’re with me,” Ransom answers. “We went out to breakfast.”

Breakfast, you repeat in your head. Not gone forever, just out to breakfast. You know you should be calm, to ignore the voice in the back of your head that burns with jealousy when you hear Carter calling for him.

“I want them home.”

“We’re almost done,” Ransom replies. “I wrote you a note. You didn’t see it?”  

A quick glance on the counter and table give you nothing as you exhale.

“You should have asked me and you didn’t. I want them home, Ransom. Now.”

“I get it. We’ll be there in a little.”

“Good.”

You hang up, running your hand down your face as you try to control your shaking. Once again, Ransom gets to be the hero. You know your feelings are because you were caught off guard. He’s their father, you reason with yourself. He has a right to take them out to breakfast. But their little laughs break your heart when you think of all the times they’ve fought you on breakfast. He’s the new favorite, even if you know it makes sense because he’s still just getting to know them.

-

A shower does little to calm your nerves, the minutes turning into almost two hours before you hear the key in the door. The sound of little footsteps gets your attention, their little voices calling for you before you round the corner. You’re plied with hugs and kisses, talking over each other as they talk about their breakfast and all the things they’ve done with Ransom before they got home, Leah spinning around in her new coat while carter proudly pats his own.

“Did you thank him for your coats?” you ask them while they nod profusely. “Good job. Why don’t you go put them away and go play for a bit? I need to talk to Daddy, okay?”

They take off, the doors closing almost in unison before you stand, looking at the bags that Ransom places on the table.

“You need to ask me next time,” you whisper, peering at the designer bags and not at Ransom. “They’re going to be hopped on sugar for a few more hours.”

“They’re kids,” Ransom reasons.  

“And I asked for them almost two hours ago.”

“They needed some new coats,” Ransom explains calmly. “Leah was shivering at the pumpkin patch.”

“What are you trying to say?”  

“Nothing. It’s getting colder and she needed a thicker coat. Then we went to one store and then that led to another.”

“So you were just going to do whatever you wanted with my kids.”

“ Our kids,” Ransom corrects you. “I brought them back, like you asked.”

“Two hours later, Ransom,” you counter. “You didn’t ask me to take them out. You just did it. What if I had plans to take them somewhere?”

Ransom is silent as you fume, trying to maintain your composure by crossing your arms over your chest.

“But you don’t care, right? You come into their lives like you’ve been there the entire time and they love you. And why wouldn’t they? They have their father in their lives and you’re their hero. You give them whatever they want. You don’t deal with the tantrums, the fights, how much it hurts to see them pick you over me because I’ve always been there for them. You haven’t.”

“I didn’t know they existed until a few months ago. You can’t fault me for that.”

“You’re right,” you agree bitterly. “I can’t fault you for me promising Harlan to keep them a secret. That I told him never to tell you because I thought I was going to lose them at least twice. Everywhere I went, I heard about you. The bridesmaid of mine on the eve of our wedding? That ex of yours that you spent a night with the night I was waiting for you to come home to tell you I was pregnant?”

Your eyes fill with tears as his eyes widen at the realization.

“You didn’t think I knew? I didn’t even have to ask , Ransom,” you continue, your voice getting louder. “Your friends ratted you out. Couldn’t even tell me the truth, even when I smelled other women on your clothes. On your fucking hands, Ransom! It isn’t fair that you get to receive every bit of their love and I have to sit here and wonder how…”

You turn your heel to turn your back to him, trying to take a breath.  

“I didn’t know,” Ransom says quietly. “I didn’t know you were pregnant.”  

“It didn’t matter! It never would have mattered to you and do you know why? Because you wouldn’t have stopped. I gave and I gave. Every. Single. Inch. I didn’t even have my soul left and you know what? You had that too. Every bit of my love, my dignity and shame was all yours. And I could understand if you didn’t know what to do with it but you knew! Everytime you made a decision to be with someone who wasn’t me, refusing to be honest with me that you didn’t want me, you broke me!”

The cry that leaves your lips is painful, your hand covering your mouth as Ransom takes a step forward that you can’t see.

“You come in and it’s effortless how they are drawn to you. You’ll one up me, even in our children’s lives because that’s what you do. All I ever wanted to do was love you, Ransom. I tried so hard and they are the only good in my world and I have to compete with you again. And I know I’ll lose every time. Because I always do.”

“I’m sorry. I was going through a lot,” Ransom begins, his voice low. “I went back to using after the wedding. I thought I could handle it but… it got out of control.”

You aren’t sure how to react with that news. Ransom using was a completely different Ransom.

“So you lied to me about that too.”

“I had to. I couldn’t face you, knowing I disappointed you with that. That I disappointed my granddad. But I swear, I would have checked into rehab once I’d known. And I did, after you left. I got clean.”

“And the women? You weren’t able to stop yourself before the coke. Would that be an excuse too?”

“I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”

Your sarcastic sob echoes in the living room.

“Before or after you told me you never loved me? Was it before you lied right to my face before you went to into the shower after we left the country club, smelling like sex after you promised me that the woman who caught your eye was merely a friend? Or the pictures your friends sent me from your boys trip?”

“I know,” Ransom answers, his tone filled with sadness. “I want to take it all back. I want to make it right.”

You both don’t notice the two little heads peeking around the corner, eyes wide and full of tears.  

“You can’t!” your voice is a shrill squeak as your cover your face. “I don’t have anything left! Just them! I loved you, Ransom! God, I did and I sometimes I think I still do and I shouldn’t because no self-respecting woman would do that, would think that someone like you would ever love me or that even you deserve it because you don’t! I made sure they knew who you were because I didn’t want them to not know you. And here you are, slowly taking them away from me.”

Ransom spies the note that must have fallen on the ground, picking it up as he places it on the counter.

“I didn’t mean to make this a big deal,” he says quietly as you turn your head to look at the note, tears streaming down your face as you realize he was telling the truth. “I just wanted to give you a break. Let you sleep for a little. And I should have brought them home when you asked. I’m sorry.”

“Mommy?” Carter asks, your head turning at the sight of the twins.

Before you can get to them, the loud knock at the door breaks the heavy silence, Leah and Carter running to Ransom as he kneels down to rub their backs, soothing them as you sniffle and open the door.

“Miss?” the police officer greets you, a concerned look on his face. “I got word of an argument. Just making sure everything is okay.”

Ransom stands behind you, both kids holding onto him as he nods.

“Just an emotional conversation,” you answer, the officer nodding as he looks at Ransom. “Would it be alright if I spoke to you both outside? One at a time?”

-

Andy places a cup of coffee in front of you, handing you a box of tissues as you wait for him to sit down.

“Ransom’s lawyer contacted me about the house call,” Andy starts, your gaze lifting from the cup and to his face. “From what I understand, Ransom didn’t initiate the call. She did.”

“What did she want?”

You’re still emotionally raw, unable to sleep for the past week while the kids play in the other room, Leah’s happy laughter filtering through the heavy glass doors.

“Linda contacted her and is asking for an intervention. Both kids need to see a therapist,” Andy says with a sigh as you sniffle.

“I can’t put them through that,” you remind him. “It was a mistake, I won’t do it again.”  

“Linda believes that the kids would be better off with a fifty-fifty agreement. Now, I want to make it clear that Ransom has not initiated any of these conversations. It’s Laurie being Laurie and sticking her nose in business where she doesn’t belong. But I don’t know the relationship with Linda and Ransom these days. But I do know that Carter and Leah did hear the argument and that’s a problem.”

Andy sees your face fall and he gets up from his chair, crouching down as you nod, wiping your eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to hold it off as much as I can. But she’s also pushing for court ordered therapy for yourself and Ransom.”

“No.”

Andy sighs, giving you a slow nod as you shake your head.

“I don’t want to be near him. Please, Andy.”

“It’s a mediated session. Clearly there are some deep seated issues that you need to discuss – that you should discuss with Ransom. But this isn’t about him. It’s about the wellbeing of your children and yourself.”

“Court ordered,” you reply, your voice soft. “Because of me.”

“Because of Ransom,” Andy corrects. “Look at me.”

His request is soft and you look up, the soft smile playing on his lips.

“You are wonderful, do you hear me? You birthed those amazing babies and you’re raising them right. Every single thing up until Ransom was in their lives was all you and will continue to be because you are an amazing person. You don’t always have to be strong. You do the court ordered therapy, tell Ransom how you truly feel and we get back on track with custody arrangements, okay?”  

“Okay,” you answer. “I understand.”

  “I understand it too and it still makes my blood boil,” Andy muses, helping you up. “I’m always here if you need me.”

“Thank you.”

For a minute he pauses, giving you a wink.

“You know if Steve’s still busy…”

“Andy Barber,” you laugh, letting him guide you toward the twins.

“Never hurts to ask,” he says, as the twins run toward him with their hands outstretched. “I know, I know.”  

He leans down, giving them two lollipops as they pocket them quickly, rushing out their little thank yous.

“It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

-

Ransom looks at his calendar, his weekends highlighted while he thinks about you. Deep down, the urge to numb the pain begins, his hands curling into fists while he gets up to head into the kitchen, getting out the cleaning supplies to keep himself busy. He knows if he listens to that voice, the one that tells him he’s nothing and to numb the pain, he’ll eventually find reasons to do it and he can’t.

Not after he saw the pain on your face and the look of sadness on the twins’ faces. It’s been almost three years since he’s been clean, the house void of any drugs since he’d left rehab. It will stay that way, he tells himself, getting to work on cleaning the kitchen counters. 

He’s not pleased at his mother, intervening where she shouldn’t but he knows that the high priced lawyer and her are friends. Looking out for his ‘best interest’ means finding a way to screw you over and he’s adamant at keeping the custody arrangement the way it is. But the court ordered therapy is another issue altogether.

Ransom doesn’t want you to know the ins and outs of what he’s done. How he’s hurt you and how he knows the power of a promise now when it’s too late. He also knows that Steve is aware, at least a little bit, of what transpired. Though the doctor doesn’t say much, the politeness that is there is one that Ransom knows could be temporary, even as Steve tries to engage him in conversation when he sees him.

But he doesn’t expect the sight of Steve on social media, a few quick pics of the mountains and a waterfall catching Ransom’s attention. It merely says ‘date weekend’ and immediately, Ransom knows that you’re going. He’s careful not to like the post but he exits out quickly, shifting back to his work as the voice gets louder until he focuses on the twins. The thought of them calms him, the urge dissipating as he continues clearing.

It’s his weekend that you’ll be gone and he’ll keep them entertained.

For his sake, he’ll have to keep himself entertained as well.

Chapter Text

The sound of doors slamming in the driveway gets Ransom’s attention, his timing perfect as he spies the twins following you, talking excitedly while Steve plucks their overnight bags from the back. He forces down the jealously at this domestic scene – the twins talking over each other to get Steve’s attention while you take their hands to lead them up the steps. Ransom knows this is the calm before the storm – your lawyer has already reached out to Laurie to begin the conversation of visitation, something Ransom has already told her that he doesn’t want to change. 

The first court ordered therapy visit will come a week after you come back from your date with Steve, Ransom crouching down to hug Leah and Carter as they squeeze him tight for a moment, scrambling into the house as Steve approaches behind you. You look relaxed, a far cry from when he saw you last.

“I packed everything they needed. They have extra clothes in case you want to take them somewhere.”

Your voice is back to the same it was before, devoid of any emotion as Ransom moves to let Steve inside to place their bags in the foyer. He looks like a lumberjack, flannel shirt and jeans with boots as he pushes back his hair that falls against his forehead.

“I’ll be outside,” Steve tells you warmly, raising a hand to greet Ransom. “Good to see you, Ransom.”

“Alright,” you say with a clear voice, the twins whipping their heads around at the sound. “Can I say goodbye before you head up the stairs?”

In a flurry of bright sweaters, the twins are all over you, smothering you with kisses like they always do, snuggling against your shirt as their soft goodbyes and promises to be good fill the air before they hug Steve’s legs and then race up the stairs.

Ransom doesn’t answer, save for a smile that appears and disappears within seconds as you hear the twins squealing at their new toys as Steve disappears outside.

“How long are you gone for?” Ransoms asks, trying to keep it casual.

“Two days,” you answer. “It’s not far from here. I can be back within a few hours if they need me.”

The silence that falls between you makes Ransom’s throat burn with the need to continue the conversation you had over a week ago, to apologize for hurting you, to let you know it will never again before you fire off a text, his phone alerting him of the notification as you turn on your heels.

“All the information is in the text.”

There’s no goodbye, just a simple nod of the head after you look around for a moment as he knows you remember every inch of the house.

Because you helped him decorate it years ago.

Still, he spies you outside, head bowed for a moment before Steve stands in front of you, hands on your shoulders. Ransom can’t make out what he’s saying but he sees the gentle way his hands move to your back, giving you a hug before he opens the door for you and closes it. Ransom lets go of the blinds, locking the door as he heads up the stairs to check on the twins, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in his gut before the Range Rover backs out of the driveway.

-

“You ready for this?”

Steve’s voice breaks you out of your sleepy stupor, blinking away the haze as the mountains come into view. You aren’t sure how long you’ve been out but you know it’s been at least two hours – maybe more. You’re making up from the lack of sleep after Carter refused to go to sleep, having a meltdown at three in the morning that led to you seeing the sunrise before Leah woke up and wanted to debate about having pizza for breakfast before you took them over to Ransom’s.

“I think so,” you answer, sitting up in your seat as you stretch. “I’ve never been camping.”

“I’m going easy on you. Got a nice little cabin and we can fish for dinner.”

“Fish? Like, with a fishing pole?” you inquire, raising an eyebrow as he laughs.

“Something like that, yes. I’ll show you how and I’ll clean it and cook it myself for us.”

“You don’t have to do all that, Steve. I can help.”

“I hardly count this as a vacation but you need to rest. We’re going to be away from the city and I’m going to show you all of my favorite hiking spots. I know you can help me but you don’t need to. Let me take care of you.”

He reaches for your hand, giving it a quick squeeze as you smile, forcing yourself to relax. It’s a need to want to take care of people. It has been since you were a child. This feeling of someone offering to do something for you feels foreign, almost wrong as you squeeze his hand back.

“Cell service is non-existent up there but I have WiFi so you can still keep in contact with the twins.”

“Carter does love FaceTime,” you admit with a shake of your head at the thought, making you smile. “Thank you, Steve. For helping me with them this morning and taking them to Ransom’s. It means a lot to me.”

“I was happy to. And I have you to thank you for indulging me on this camping trip. Which doesn’t really count since we’re in a cabin, you know. One day you’ll get the full experience.”

“Of camping? On the ground? Wouldn’t that hurt your back?”

“For you?” Steve says with a smile. “We’d glamp. Get you a nice tent with an air mattress.”

“But that’s still on the ground,” you remind him as he laughs.

“Fair enough.”

-

“Leah, no jumping,” Ransom warns, watching his daughter hop onto the other couch as she sits, looking up at him with innocent eyes.

“Okay, Daddy,” she promises, sliding off the couch as she hovers over Carter, who is looking outside at the snow. “Can we play?”

“For a little and then it’s time for lunch. Let’s go get you dressed.”

While the twins head up the stairs, Ransom scrolls through his Instagram, stopping at the picture of you at dawn. He studies it for a moment, cup of coffee in hand while you sit on the deck, snuggled under a blanket. Steve captions it with a mere ‘Beautiful Sunrise’ and Ransom focuses on the likes and comments. It’s your friends, telling him to take you to various hiking places, to make sure you have fun.

He didn’t know you liked camping, let alone to make the decision to go.

“Look Daddy!” Leah says behind him as he turns, eyes widening as Leah tries to jump from the stairs as he drops his phone to try to reach her.

“Leah, no!”

-

“How is it?”

You can see the careful curiosity on Steve’s features as you nod.

“It’s really good.”

“You sure? Even with the glaze?”

“Especially with the glaze.”

You aren’t lying – you could probably eat this lunch for the rest of your life. Your mind slips to Ransom for a moment, thinking about how you used to cook and if you were tired, he’d order something. It was nice to see Steve in the kitchen, music playing as he prepped everything, refusing to let you help as he settled you into the living room with a glass of wine and a book.

But you’re at peace for the moment, sipping your glass of wine while Steve leans forward slightly.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Steve begins, placing his fork down on his plate.

“Sure.”

“I have a conference coming up. It’s in California.”

“California,” you repeat. “For how long?”

“Four days. But I was thinking… I want you and the twins to come. I can get your own suite and you all can explore.” Steve pauses for a moment, shaking his head. “Or I’m really pushy and I apologize if I did. Just figured you three could enjoy some time out there.”

“Steve, I -” 

“I know,” he backtracks with a shake of his head. “I got ahead of myself, I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t say no,” you reply. “There’s just the therapy session and Ransom and I have to think about it. It’s not a no and I would love to go but our situation is…”

“Complicated. I understand. How about this. I leave it on the table and if you come, then you do. If you don’t, then I’ll be out of your hair for four days. Sound good?”

You aren’t sure how you got so lucky to be around someone like Steve, understanding and apologizing when he doesn’t need to.

You help him clear the table, placing the dishes into the sink when you bump into him, trying to get the dish soap from under the sink, straightening up as he smiles.

“I got the dishes.”

“But you cooked,” you remind him.

“I can do both, I’m a big boy,” Steve teases, leaning down as you swallow hard.

“I know,” you respond, his lips just about to touch yours when your phone chimes with a FaceTime call. You grab your phone as Steve pulls back on his heels, giving you some space while you answer.

“Ransom?”

You can hear a soft sniffle and sob, Leah crying out for you as Ransom shakes his head. Her sob rattles you, guilt rippling through your body.

“Leah had an accident. We’re at the ER.”

“What?” Your heart flutters at the news, tears filling your eyes as Steve stands behind you. “What happened?”

“She jumped from the stairs. Possible broken arm.”

“I’m on my way.”

When you hang up, Steve hears your soft sob as he collects you into his arms.

“She’s alright,” Steve soothes against the top of your head. “I promise. I’ll drive, okay?”

-

“Mommy!” Leah looks up with a wide smile, a neon green cast on her tiny arm. You leave Steve behind, rushing toward her hospital bed as you cup her face, kissing her forehead as she giggles.

“You okay? Does it hurt?” You smooth back her hair, examining the bruise on her cheek.

“Uh-uh,” she replies, blinking at the sight of your tears. “No crying, Mommy. Look, it’s green!”

“It is,” you agree, trying to calm yourself. “Did you pick out that color?”

“Uh-huh. It’s pretty.”

“It is very pretty,” you agree, kissing her nose as you exhale.

A tiny body clings to your legs, the Red Sox hat falling over his brows as you push it up, Ransom standing off to the side as Steve gives him a nod of greeting.

“Didn’t realize you were here,” Ransom starts, looking at Carter and Leah. “Can we talk in the hallway?”

“I’ll keep them occupied,” Steve offers, pulling up a chair as Carter places his toys in Steve’s lap.

Once the door closes, Ransom sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“She’s jumping around a lot now. I’ve been telling her to stop, to watch out, I’ve been watching her and I turn around for a minute and she’s already in the air and I tried to catch her but…”

He hits his fist against the wall softly.

“She scared the shit out of me. I’ve never heard her scream like that and I felt. I failed her. I should have caught her.”

A long silence hangs between you both, Ransom shoving his hands into his coat.

“You didn’t know,” you answer quietly. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was,” Ransom argues. “Do you know why? I was distracted. I should have seen her coming but I didn’t.”

“Distracted how?”

“I was on my phone.”

You let out a sigh, hearing their laughter from outside the door.

“She’ll be alright.”

“I’ll tell Laurie and Andy. Just rip the band-aid off.”

“It was a mistake.”

“I know,” Ransom responds. “I still feel like shit.”

“It wasn’t your fault. She’s three, Ransom. She’s going to push boundaries. I don’t blame you for that.”

At your words, you see his shoulders straighten slightly, his head nodding while he swallows. His eyes are glassy and he inhales quickly, looking away from you for a moment. You want to go back inside, see your children even though it’s only been a day and a half. You didn’t realize how much you’d missed them.

“Are you going back?” Ransom asks. “She’s getting released in an hour.”

“No. I’m staying.”

“I’m guessing you’ll want them with you tonight,” Ransom trails off as you reach for the door.

You lift your head up at his question but don’t reply, slipping inside the room.

“Everything okay?” Steve asks, Carter slipping off his shoulders as he runs toward you.

“Yes,” you answer, the twins cuddling against you.

-

Steve assures you that the kids are going to have a great time at the movies, giving you a picture of the three of them in their seats with a thumbs up. It keeps your mind off of the fact that you’re now miles away from them, sitting in a chair at a court ordered therapy appointment.

The niceties are quick, Dr. Gray looking every bit the therapist, right down to her black blazer and starched white button down shirt. The guidelines are simple. A safe space, active listening and a chance to hear each other out.

She’s already told you that you need to be transparent with your feelings, something you told yourself you were going to ignore. She has no idea the pain you’ve gone through and you don’t want to rehash any of it with Ransom around.

But she doesn’t ask you first.

She asks about Ransom and his childhood, things you already knew and some you didn’t.

Like Ransom watching his parents blame him for their divorce.

“Why don’t you tell her about your accident?”

Your ears perk up at the question.

The therapist’s face is filled with empathy, nodding at Ransom while you see his fingers dig into the arm of the chair. It’s obvious he’s not comfortable, judging by the clenching of his jaw. He hasn’t been relaxed since he stepped foot into the office, the mahogany furniture catching his attention while he focused on the intricate carvings as a distraction.

For now, a cup of coffee and a cup of tea sit between you, still filled to the brim as she eyes you both for a moment before turning back to Ransom.

“I’m not,” Ransom swallows. “I’m not ready to talk about it.”

“Ransom, this is a safe space as we discussed. Both of you need to heal for the good of your children. That’s why we’re here. We leave nothing off the table.”

Ransom inhales, closing his eyes momentarily as you wait. With the last curveball he’s thrown, you aren’t sure what to expect this time. Dr. Gray taps her pen on her notebook as Ransom opens his mouth and then closes it for a moment, sighing before he clears his throat.

“I was in an accident,” he says quietly, his head turning toward you. “The night you… the night you left me for good. Harlan told me you were leaving and I left.”

Silence hangs in the room, uncomfortable and stifling. It ticks by for several minutes. 

You remember that night, the phone call to Harlan when you told him your plan and how he simply listened to your tearful admission, letting you call Ransom every name in the book until he agreed that you were doing what was best for you and the twins.

“Left where?” the therapist presses as Ransom shakes his head.

“I was with a few friends. Boys’ trip but… it didn’t matter. I was driving back but I was high. It was raining.”

Ransom swallows as you keep still, waiting for him to finish. You hadn’t known he was in a car accident, your stomach fluttering as unease sets in as you stop breathing.

“I don’t remember what happened. One minute I was driving and the next, I was in the hospital. My car was totaled. When I woke up, Harlan told me I’d been in intensive care for almost three weeks. I was sedated because my injuries were still life-threatening. I’d coded twice.”

You look away from him, pulling a tissue from the box as you wipe the burning tears from your eyes. He says it calmly, like he’s talking about the weather, the therapist nodding in response.

Your fingers dig into the arm of the chair as you try to maintain your focus, the tears blurring your vision.

“And what was the first thing you asked Harlan?” she asks.

“I asked if she was alright. If she was there.”

You keep your mouth closed as Ransom doesn’t look at you, feeling the awkwardness of his confession hanging in the air. You never had any inkling that he was in an accident, let alone how close he’d come to dying.

The twins would have never known their father.

“And what did Harlan say?”

“He told me that he didn’t tell her about the accident because she was gone. He told me she moved out of state. Which was a goddamn lie.”

You can feel the fury in Ransom’s tone, your body still unmoving as Dr. Gray holds up her hand for silence.

“Ransom, Harlan’s issues aside, what else happened?” she continues as Ransom shakes his head again, huffing gently in frustration.

“I asked to see her anyway. Harlan told me no. He asked if I’d been using again. The toxicology report showed coke and ecstasy in my blood. I told him the truth.”

“And then?”

“Fuck,” Ransom mutters, running a hand through his hair. “I just… I told him I wanted to go to rehab.”

“Why did you ask for that?”

“Because I wanted to get clean. I almost died. Hell, I could have died. I wished for it a few times. That I’d just overdose and end it all because she wasn’t there anymore. I lost everything. And I knew it wasn’t healthy. It was selfish and that accident took so much for me. I had memory issues. Gaps in remembering things. I write it all down.”

“Where do you write it?”

Ransom digs into his pocket, producing a small notebook.

Your lip trembles at the sight of it, black and well-worn as he pushes it toward the therapist.

“Any dates I need to remember. I have her birthday, the kids’ birthday, our anniversary,” he trails off, shoving the notebook back into his pocket. “In case I forget.”

The therapist turns the pages carefully, her eyes reading each page when she comes across a photo. She picks it up, looking at it carefully before she turns it around. 

“Where was this taken?”

You cover your mouth at the sight of the photo. It was years ago, Ransom holding the biggest pumpkin he could find as you kissed his cheek. You remember that day, how much he hated going to any seasonal because his parents always fought. You’d taken it home and you’d both decided on a smirking pumpkin, carefully carving it and enjoying your handiwork once it was placed outside.

You’d thought you’d lost that picture when you left him.

He’d had it all along.

“A few years back.”

“Is there a significance to this photo?” Dr. Gray asks.

“It was my first time going to a place that I used to hate. She made it tolerable. I didn’t hate it.”

“Why was that?”

“She wanted to explore everything, didn’t argue about what she wanted to see. My parents could never agree, always ended up in a fight and we’d go home early but she’d post this pictures of one happy family and it was a goddamn lie. That was the first picture I have where I didn’t hate going.”

“And this one?”

“That’s one of our wedding photos,” Ransom answers quietly. “It keeps me accountable.”

“Yes,” Dr. Gray answers, looking at him for a moment. “Your sponsor keeps you accountable still, am I correct? You’ve been clean for over two years now. Most don’t check in that often. Do you feel that you’ll one day slip back into using?”

“Not as much. I keep busy. My kids keep me busy.”

“How long were you in the hospital?”

“Three months. I still have a few scars to remind me of it,” Ransom admits, motioning to his head.

“After the accident, you mentioned rehab. How long were you there for?”

“Six months.”

“Was your family aware that you were in rehab? How often did they see you?”

“Harlan did,” Ransom replies. “The rest didn’t care.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because they never have. My family are a bunch of blood sucking rich idiots who suck the life and money out of my grandfather. I can’t say that I’m better than them but at least I help him from time to time. Without him, I’d be dead. My parents don’t give a shit about me, not until they knew about the twins then it was my mother asking for more custody. She hasn’t even met them.”

“And your father?”

“A piece of shit,” Ransom qualifies. “I’m not talking about him. Sorry, Doc.”

“We’ll table it for another discussion,” Dr. Gray counters, writing on her notepad. “But I want to circle back to something you mentioned earlier. You wanted her there at your bedside but Harlan said no. You claim that he lied. Why do you think he would do such a thing?”

“He was protecting her from me.”

“What do you say that?”

“I fucked up,” Ransom says with a sigh, leaning back in his chair. “I hurt her every time I had the chance to better. I wasn’t. I picked my friends over her. The drugs, the women.”

It’s too much.

“Excuse me,” you interrupt, pulling yourself up from the chair as Dr. Gray calls out to you, ignoring her as you push through the lobby doors and down to the bathrooms where you lock yourself inside a stall, covering your face as you break down.

Footsteps make their way inside the bathroom, Dr. Gray’s voice calling out for you as you sniffle.

“I know this is hard,” she says to you, voice slightly echoing in the space. “And we can absolutely take a break if you need to.”

“I can’t do this,” you admit, opening the stall door as she leans against the wall, nodding slowly.

“You can. You already are. People think therapy is just getting things off your chest. I’m here to have you both make sense of what has happened. Right now, we’re giving him his chance to speak and it will be your turn soon. I know what you’re hearing is hard. But it’s to make both of you aware of what each other has gone through. I am not asking for you to forgive or forget. I’m asking you to listen. Can you do that for me?” Her voice is soft, soothing as you wash your hands, pressing a cool, damp paper towel over your eyes as you try to breathe.

“Yes.”

“Okay. Are you ready to go back inside?”

When you nod again, she smiles, opening the door for you to head back inside.

-

A fresh cup of tea is poured for you, Ransom not taking his eyes off of you as you pick it up, the liquid slightly sloshing before you bring it to your lips.

“Are we ready to continue?”

Ransom says nothing, save for a small nod as you do the same.

“Did Harlan ever give you any indication that you were a father before you found out?”

“No,” Ransom answers, a cold expression on his face. “He told me a few months ago that he wanted me to focus on healing. Getting clean. I would have gotten clean for them. No question.”

“And her?”

Ransom shifts in his chair.

“I tried but when I got out of my coma, I was going to. I committed to that."

“And you did,” Dr. Gray agrees. “You’ve been clean for two and a half years. Do ever give yourself credit for that? It’s a battle every day, Ransom. You should be proud of yourself.”

“I don’t,” Ransom replies. “Never feel good enough to. I just mark each day down that I’m clean.”

“I think you should remember that that is progress. What about women? You said prior that drugs and women went hand in hand. Now that you’re clean, have you found that to be the case?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, you find it easier to meet women or yes, you found the correlation?”

“I don’t need to meet women,” Ransom answers, irritation in his tone. “I tried once or twice. Dating isn’t for me.”

“What do you mean? Do you mean you don’t require a connection with another person when it comes to dating?”

“No. I know what I lost and I’m not getting it back.”

“By what you lost,” Dr. Gray draws out, pointing you. “Do you mean her?”

“Are we done?” Ransom snaps. “I don’t feel like rehashing my love life.”

“We aren’t done,” Dr. Gray reminds him. “And I’d like you to answer the question.”

“What do you want me to say? Sometimes I wake up like I’m back in the hospital and I’m calling out for her and she doesn’t answer. Harlan isn’t in my dreams. I wake up and she’s gone. From the dream and when I wake up. And I have to live with that, Doc. I don’t sleep for days sometimes and -”

“Can we,” you start, placing your cup down. “I would like a break. I want to speak to him. Alone.”

“Of course,” Dr Gray says, lifting up from her chair. “I’ll give you a few minutes.”

At the close of the door, you try to get the courage to speak, standing up while you pace, Ransom rising from his chair at the sight of you moving back and forth.

“You almost died,” you tell him, stopping in your tracks.

“I know.”

“You would have never seen the twins.”

“Don’t think about it,” Ransom orders you softly. 

“You said you had a scar.”

“Yeah. It’s here,” Ransom says, his fingers carding through his hair. “It’s a reminder.”

When your hand reaches out, you lower your arm, Ransom taking your wrist as his fingers circle around your skin.

“You can,” he swallows. “Here.”

He brings your hand up toward his scalp, a few inches back as the pads of your fingertips touch the raised scar as your eyes cloud with tears. It’s jagged, your fingers shaking against his head.

You think of everything the twins have gone through. What you’ve gone through and as you feel every inch of the car, you aren’t sure how he survived the crash.

“Ransom,” you sob, his forehead touching yours lightly as your hand falls back down.

“I’m still here,” he promises, tears dripping down your cheeks. “I’m right here.”

It’s too much. Too much to absorb, too much to think about. Too close of a proximity for you to even breathe, let alone begin to sort through, your hands shaking with emotion.

“I can’t,” you breathe, pushing away. “I need a minute.”

Pulling open the door, Dr. Gray is sitting in her office, her eyes filled with concern as you pause, trying to hold it together.

“Everything alright?”

“I just… I need a minute,” you murmur, wiping your eyes. “Please.”

“Of course. Take your time.”

By the time you get to the elevator, your heart is pounding, phone and keys in hand. It’s a bad idea, you know this.

But it doesn’t stop you from leaving, heading straight to your car without a second thought, the ignition starting as you slip into the driver’s seat and pull away from the parking lot.

Your phone rings while you’re down the highway, answering it as you see Andy’s number.

“Andy?”

“Dr. Gray just told me you left. Is that true?”

There’s a long pause before you answer.

“Yes.”

You hear his soft swear at your response, sighing as he clears his throat.

“Alright. Can you meet me at my office?”

“That’s fine,” you reply.

“Okay. See you then.”

Chapter Text

Up until twenty minutes ago, you were holding it together. Anything regarding Ransom and that therapy session had been filed away to be rehashed at a later date. The moment you open the door to Andy’s office and he stands, you feel your resolve crumbling once again, the tightness in your chest returning as he motions at the chair in front of his desk. Your feet carry you there but you aren’t sure how. Every inch of you feels like lead, sinking down into the plush leather chair as he leans against his desk in front of you. He looks disappointed, even as he tries to give you a smile.

“Thanks for meeting me so quickly,” Andy begins, his hands on either side of the desk. “I know you had your reasons for leaving. Are you alright?”

Three little words shatter your strength, hands covering your face before every single emotion you’ve bottled up on the drive to his office bubbles up to the surface, the painful sob echoing in his office before you feel the box of tissue placed on your side, strong arms bringing you to his chest. Your tears soak into his suit jacket, inhaling his woodsy cologne with every short inhale.

“Let it out,” Andy says against you. “I’m sorry.”

Head pounding, you aren’t sure how long stand there, wrapped in his arms as he holds you tight. There’s no hand movement on your back to provide a distraction. Just a cocoon to keep you upright.

Safe.

There aren’t many hiding places left for you to go and this one isn’t a location you would think of.

There is an unspoken acknowledgement when you finally move, your long shudder of breath at the dams of your emotions closing – temporarily as you know it will be - Andy’s hands falling back at his sides before you turn to pluck the tissues from the box, nodding while he waits for you to sit down before he speaks again.

“Laurie called me,” he informs you, his tone tinged with irritation. “Dr. Gray said that you left therapy. She was concerned. I assume whatever happened in that session was hard for you.”

You don’t like the long pause or the way his hand slides down his beard.

“What is it?”

Andy’s slow hiss as he exhales doesn’t make you feel better.

“Court ordered therapy is a tightrope. You get points for going, looks good to the judges. But when you leave, especially the way Dr. Gray describes it, it causes questions to be raised.”

“I couldn’t take it, Andy.” Your voice is back, thin but with enough determination. “He told me he almost died and I wouldn’t have known.”

Tears well up again as you press the crumpled tissues to your eyes.

“I didn’t know that. Laurie did,” Andy counters. “Medical records were sealed. So even if you went looking, you wouldn’t have found them. Harlan Thrombey has a lot of money, as I know are already aware. He extended that kindness and confidentiality to Ransom. I’m sorry this is happening.”

“What questions?” You haven’t forgotten the way he said it, almost in a gentle warning.

“Dr. Gray believes that you could benefit from some solo therapy while you continue the court ordered sessions. Three to four times a week.”

“I can’t find a sitter,” you deny, shaking your head. No more therapy. You’ve been there and done that before and you were better. This was too much at once, a simple misunderstanding of your emotions.

“Because of the outburst that night with Ransom, Laurie is pushing to see if the twins need to go through some counseling as well.”

“No,” you counter. “Andy, no. They’ve been through enough.”

“I understand,” Andy soothes, his voice low. “But you left court ordered therapy from an emotional outburst that I can completely understand. But to the courts and to Laurie, you are a liability. It’s already documented that the twins were emotional over the outburst. I know it wasn’t your fault and I know this isn’t fair.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m going to fight like hell to make sure that this isn’t upheld for long but solo therapy is now mandatory. The judge is signing off fairly quickly.”

You feel like you’re underwater, Andy’s lips moving as you blink, trying to think of a good reason as to why they would force you into something like this.

“Hey,” Andy calls out, breaking through your haze as you look down at your hands in his. “Did you understand everything I just said?”

“Court ordered therapy.” Your voice is flat, Andy’s hands gripping yours tightly as he nods.

“I have to go.”

Your voice doesn’t feel like it belongs to you, Andy letting your hands go gently. You pick up your purse, Andy calling out to you softly before you finally turn your head.

“I’m worried about you,” he admits. “Why don’t you sit for a while -”

“No,” you interrupt with a slow shake of your head. “I’ll be fine. Please, Andy. I’ll be okay, I don’t need you to walk me out.”

You don’t look at him when you grab your keys.

“I know you’re trying,” you assure him. “I appreciate you not giving up on me.”

“I never would. Are you sure I can’t drive you home?”

“No,” you answer. “I need to drive. Keep my mind off what’s coming next.”

“Text me when you get home?”

You nod, pulling your purse over your shoulder while you head out the door. At the close of it, your phone vibrates loudly inside your bag, Steve’s smiling face on the screen.

“Hey, we’re back,” Steve says as you hear Carter and Leah shouting for you as your lip trembles at their voices. “Wanted to know if you wanted me to pick up dinner for them.”

At your stifled cry, it’s quiet for a moment.

“What’s wrong?”

His voice is enough to make you want to crumple to the ground.

“Come on home, okay? I’ll figure out dinner for the twins.”

“Okay,” you whisper into the phone, wiping away the tears that drip down your cheeks. “I’ll be there soon.”

-

A number that you recognize from your past pops up on the dash, fingers curling against the steering wheel, contemplating on if you want to answer. To preserve your mental health, you know you shouldn’t but your curiosity knows no bounds before you answer it.

“Long time no talk,” Linda’s voice echoes in the car. “I didn’t think you’d take my call.”

“Me either.”

“I’m sure you spoke to Andy already. I’m not trying to punish you.”

You know she heard your sharp inhale, silence greeting you on the other end.

“I know it feels that way,” Linda continues. “I want what’s best for everyone.”

“I’m sure you do. Forcing me into more therapy against my will.”

“It’s for the good of everyone. Think of the twins.”

“God, Linda, are you serious?” you scoff, wiping away angry tears. “The twins barely know who you are.”

“And whose fault is that? You and my father have this unshakeable bond that no one can get through. I had to find out about my grandchildren from pictures. You don’t think I wanted to be in their lives? That Ransom wanted to be in their lives?”

“I did what I had to do.”

“So you lied to us. Lied to Ransom, made us think you were getting a divorce and that was it. You point fingers at Ransom for his shortcomings when you couldn’t see your own. You’re so much in denial about the help that you need that I had to step in. Those precious babies -”

“They aren’t yours!” you shout at the top of your lungs, slamming on the brakes as you blink away the stupor of almost rear-ending someone. “You can’t control me. They’re my kids.”

“But they’re paid for on my father’s dime.”

“What is the point of this call? It’s been years and I was happier for knowing you forgot I existed.”

“I wanted to check on you. I want what is best for everyone.”

“Yeah? And what’s that? You asking for more custody on Ransom’s behalf? You going behind his back to ask his lawyer for it?”

“So,” Linda says with a hum. “You’ve talked. He gets them every other weekend. You know he’s owed more than that.”

“I’m not having this conversation. I won’t. You were never there for him. Ever. Anytime he tried to make steps to be better, you reminded him that he couldn’t be. So don’t use him as your excuse.”

You hang up before she can get another word in, tears streaming down your face.

-

By the time you knock on Steve’s door, you can smell the scent of food wafting in the air before the door opens. His head is turned toward the twins, addressing Carter before he turns around.

“Cauliflower,” Steve reminds him. “You ate it three days ago, buddy. I promise, you liked it.”

When he turns around, his face falls at your expression. Before you can utter a single word, you’re pulled into his arms, trying your best not to cry in front of the twins, who circle around your legs, both of them trying to crawl up you and Steve to get your attention. At their whines, you both pick them up, Carter in your arms and Leah in Steve’s.

“Why cry, Mommy?” Carter asks, wiping your tears.

“Mommy?” Leah asks, her eyes wide as they fill with tears.

“Hey, she’s just happy to see you,” Steve soothes, watching you nod in agreement, trying to pull it together for them.

“I missed you both so much. Did you have a good time at the movies?”

Carter relaxes in your arms at your smile, his head on your shoulder.

“Uh huh, we got snacks.”

“Hey,” Steve begins, the twins looking at up at him. “Why you draw your mom a picture of your favorite character from the movie?”

Leah wiggles to try and get down at his suggestion as Carter does the same. You spy the bag of things to keep them busy on the couch as Carter digs through it to get his crayons while Leah follows suit. Steve leaves you briefly to grab some paper, placing it on the coffee table as they get to work.

It’s a small reprieve before you feel him near you again, giving you that space that he always has and that you currently don’t want.

“Bad news?”

“I have to go to court ordered therapy. Solo sessions and then with Ransom.”

His expression hardens at your news.

“What? Why?”

“Because I left in the middle of the session,” you admit.

“I’m guessing that isn’t allowed,” he hints. “Is there anything your lawyer can do?”

“He’ll try but…” Your lip trembles again at the thought. More therapy means finding a sitter, going through references and asking Harlan for money to pay for it because he won’t let you work.

Steve takes your hands in his, kissing your knuckles as you sob.

“I’m tired,” you whisper. “And I meant to call earlier but I…”

“Don’t worry about it. The kids were happy. You’re back in a place where you’re safe. That’s what matters right now. Therapy is around the corner. You aren’t there yet,” Steve reassures you. “I know you’re tired. Anyone would be dealing with what you are dealing with. You need to rest.”

“I know,” you murmur, hearing their little footsteps as they rush to show you their pictures, colorful and abstract while you take in each drawing, letting them explain their interpretation while Steve disappears for a moment, the sound of utensils being placed on the table.

“I love these,” you tell them, their smiles on display as their heads turn at the sight of plates being placed on the table.

It’s a simple dinner, chicken nuggets and vegetables for the twins and pasta for yourself and Steve. Before you can protest, he’s handing them their napkins and cups, moving the cup out of the way as Carter does his own retelling of how the movie went. It feels domestic, the scene playing out in front of you. Steve as the doting father, wiping away a spill as he listens to Leah speak, nodding along while replacing the fork Carter dropped onto the floor with a clean one without batting an eye. You spy Steve’s artwork on Leah’s cast, something she proudly shows off anytime you look at her cast.

He hasn’t asked for any of this. Hasn’t brought up that his trip with you was cut short or that he had to spend hours in the hospital, waiting for Leah to be released. He had no hesitation when you knew your therapy appointment was coming up, offering to find you a sitter until the kids decided they didn’t want to leave his side, offering to take them to a movie to keep them occupied.

Carter’s cheeks are smudged with ketchup as you stifle a yawn.

“Sleepy time, Mommy,” Carter observes with a nod of his head.

“Yeah?” Steve answers. “She does look a little tired.”

“Did you thank Steve for your dinner?” you ask, the twins bellowing out their appreciation as Steve laughs. “You three stay put, I’ll clear the table.”

You don’t argue, watching him move around the table with ease. You’re grateful for the comfortable silence, save for the twins continuing to tell you about their cinematic experience as you listen.

When you spy Leah’s yawn, you know it’s time for bed, picking her up as Carter follows behind. He doesn’t have to wait long to be picked up, his head resting on Steve’s shoulder as he opens the door.

Only a few steps down the hall and into your apartment and Leah is out cold, unaware that you are slipping her into her bed as you remove her shoes. Steve places Carter in his bed, waiting for you to come over to do the same as he stands by the door.

“I don’t want to say you’re a natural,” Steve begins. “Because that’s not right. You make it look like an artform, you know? A delicate balance that not many people see. I don’t know how you do it.”

Placing Carter’s shoes in the closet, you look back at your son and to Steve, giving him a sleepy smile before you close the door behind you.

“They make it easy. Not always but most of the time.”

“I think it’s bedtime for you, to” Steve remarks with a nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Thank you,” you murmur. “I’m not sure what I would have done without you today. Thank you for watching the twins and dinner.”

“You’re welcome. I wanted to make sure you didn’t have anything to worry about after you left therapy.”

“I still do,” you answer him, your tone bitter as he stands close. “But you took my mind off of it.”

“Good.”

You aren’t sure what possesses you to reach on your tiptoes to kiss him but you do. His lips are soft and warm, enough for you to suddenly realize what you’re doing until he’s kissing you back, his arms holding you close before you break the kiss.

“I should go,” Steve says, his nose touching yours. “Sleep well, okay?”

You nod, letting him go as he heads toward the door.

“Goodnight, Steve,” you call out softly, watching stop as his face is flushed, his smile wide.

“Goodnight.”

-

The cup of coffee sits in front of Ransom, untouched while he waits. He’s early. Almost too early but it doesn’t matter. The distress you went through at his admission from therapy had gotten to him. He’d unloaded on Laurie when she mentioned that she was pushing for solo therapy sessions for you, calling Linda to give her a piece of his mind.

“Haven’t touched your coffee,” a voice says above him.

Ransom allows a small shrug as the man slides into the booth. It’s silent for a moment, Ransom looking at his sponsor for a moment. There is an unspoken bond between him and Ari Levinson. When he almost relapsed, Ari had talked him out of it six months after he had been released from rehab.

“Haven’t wanted to,” Ransom admits. “I feel like I’m backtracking.”

Ari is a big man, crowded in the booth while Ransom leans back against the upholstered cushions.

“I told her the truth. About the accident.”

Ari is silent, the sound of the server heading their way when she stops, asking him what he’ll have. He orders a coffee and she’s gone within seconds, leaving Ransom no pauses to his thoughts.

“She didn’t know.”

Ari’s eyes narrow at Ransom’s confession.

“Harlan never told her?”

“No. It was to protect her from coming back to me. At least, that’s the answer he gave me when I asked him.”

“She should have known,” Ari counters. “But how are you feeling?”

“Worse. She left the first session. Couldn’t handle it and…” Ransom trails off, his eyes glassy. “I know it hurt her. But Laurie felt that her leaving therapy and not telling the therapist that she was leaving meant she couldn’t handle the conversation. That, coupled with the outburst that night with the twins… she pushed for mandatory solo therapy for her.”

“What?”

“I didn’t ask for it, okay? Laurie and Linda have been friends for her years, she’s the daughter of one of my mother’s closest friends. Whatever my mother wants, Laurie does it. I got better visitation of the kids but this,” Ransom pauses, thumping his fist on the table. “I couldn’t let that happen to her.”

Ari leans forward at Ransom’s comment.

“Couldn’t?”

“I have a new lawyer. Got the mandated solo therapy thrown out.”

“No shit,” Ari breathes. “Ransom, that’s some goddamn accountability right there. I’m proud of you, man.”

“She’ll find out in a few hours. Andy should be calling her.”

“That’s a good thing, right? You look miserable.”

“I thought about it again. Kids were back at her place with the guy I think she’s seeing. I thought it was casual but I don’t think it is anymore.”

“Did you?”

“No,” Ransom says quickly, pushing the small notepad toward Ari. “Still clean.”

Ari flips through it, looking at the small marks on his calendar.

“One day I’m gonna show her,” Ransom tells him. “Every day I cross off, it’s that I fought against it. She used to do that, you know? When I’d get high, she’d tell me it was a bump in the road and tomorrow was another day. She started marking off the days when I was clean. Sort of a little pick me up, you know?”

“You’ve made a lot of progress,” Ari replies with a nod. “She’d be proud of you. I know she’s proud of you now. You’ve stepped up.”

“Yeah,” Ransom shrugs. “I’m not so sure about that but at least I can hope one day she’ll see it.”

“It’s not just about her, though,” Ari reminds him. “You’re doing it for yourself for the twins. That’s the important part.”

“I miss her,” Ransom admits, shaking his head. “She’s literally right in front of me and I just, I want to tell her I’ll never do it again, I’ll be different this time and I can’t. I’ve fucked up so much. I tell myself that I need to mourn what we had and move on. But I can’t.”

“Who said you have to mourn it?”

“Myself,” Ransom scoffs. “We have family date planned, thanks to Dr. Gray.”

“What’s that about?”

“Co-parenting. She wants to make sure we both get along for the kids sake.”

“Doing anything special?”

“Park day. There’s a children’s exhibit at the museum that just opened.”

“It’s going to be fine, Ransom. I promise. You keep making steps to be better. I hope you understand that.”

“I do,” he answers with a hard swallow.

-

Leah’s eyes are wide with wonder as she clings to Ransom’s hand, watching the robot move in the display area. Carter is close by, chewing on a piece of soft pretzel while he looks around the exhibit. It isn’t packed by any means but the twins are hyper today, enough to keep both of you on your guard. Carter swallows down the last of his snack, about to lick the salt off his fingers before you swoop in with a wipe as he protests, trying to wiggle out of your grasp.

“You’ve been touching all sorts of things,” you remind him, ignoring his complaint as you toss the wipe into the trash. “See? All done.”

“Yuck,” Carter snips, running away from you as Ransom spies him heading toward another auditorium.

“Carter, wait up, buddy,” Ransom calls out, leaving Leah with you as he follows after him.

Thinking it’s a game, Carter runs faster, turning his head around to call out to his father before he hits something solid, falling to the ground as he blinks in surprise.

“You okay?” Ransom asks, picking him up with ease. “Can’t run away like that, okay?”

“I thought it as a joke,” a voice says behind him. “Ransom Drysdale a father. Looks like I was wrong.”

Ransom stills at the sound of the voice, turning around with Carter in his arms as he looks at his former best friend. Georgie, for the most part, looks the same. There’s gray in his thick head of hair, eyes still mischievous as before as he smirks.

“It’s been a while,” Georgie remarks. “Thought maybe you lost my number.”

“Kept my distance.”

“No shit.”

Ransom hears you calling for Carter, stopping when you see Georgie.

“Holy shit,” he laughs. “You have twins. Good on you, Drysdale, considering you said you never wanted kids.”

“Carter,” you call out, snatching him from Ransom’s hands. He notices your hands shaking when you place Carter on the ground. “Let’s go find something else to look at.”

You’re gone, leaving them behind as Georgie nods.

“And back with the ex-wife. That’s sweet of you. Got your happy ending after all. Could have let me know,” Georgie draws out. “Would have thrown you a baby shower. But I think your brain was still stapled shut, right?”

Ransom sees red, slamming Georgie against the wall as patrons gasp.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Ransom growls. “You wanna make a joke about how I almost died? In front of my kids? Sick fuck.”

“The only sick fuck here is you, pretending to be a family man. Cutting off your friends for her? She left you alone, Ransom. Even when you needed her.”

“That was you,” Ransom seethes. “Every bit of my happiness, you had to make sure that you dismantled it and I let you. I let you take away every good thing in my life because I was a goddamned idiot. Don’t bring her into this. Don’t mention her name. You’re the worst fucking person I’ve ever met.”

Ransom notices the crowd that is beginning to form, letting Georgie go as Georgie smooths out his shirt, glaring at the crowd.

“You payin’ for a show or the museum? Mind your fucking business,” he calls out.

“Still using,” Ransom acknowledges with a shake of his head. “That’s all I need to know.”

“And what? You get clean so you’re holier than thou? You think you get to forget what you did? I was there, Ransom. Bring her in here, let’s tell her the truth. Every chance you got to get high, you did and the women you fucked weren’t her so stop pretending that you get a second chance and that you get to ignore the past.”

“Ransom.”

He turns at the sound of your voice, the twins behind you.

“Can you take them outside please?”

“We’re not done,” Georgie says as Ransom turns away from him, scooping up the twins in his arms.

“We are,” Ransom answers.

What little crowd is left watches you approach Georgie, a grim smile on his face.

“You still managed to win,” Georgie mutters. “He’ll fuck you over again. Does he know that I sent you those pictures? You didn’t deserve him. He’s a Drysdale, for fuck’s sake. People like him and I? We don’t get tied down. I know you made sure you got knocked up but you knew you couldn’t win.”

“Are you happy, Georgie? Do those designer drugs you’re on keep you warm at night? Do the women you take to your bed, do they give you that sense of satisfaction that you keep trying to find? Or maybe it’s the alcohol or the way you talk to women. Does that sense of superiority make you feel whole?”

You pause for a moment, looking at him. He’s sweating, eyes dilated for the moment as he swallows.

“The answer will always be no. It was no before you tried to break us up, it was no when you tried to date me behind his back after sending me the pictures. The answer is always going to be no, Georgie. In anything you do, the answer is going to be no.”

You turn on your heels, walking away as he calls out your name, security heading toward him as you hear him get louder.

-

Dr. Gray would be proud.

Both of you turn your attention on the twins at lunch, helping them color and cutting up their food, wiping up messes in between talk of their upcoming birthday. It’s cordial, even though you both are rattled beyond belief.

For the sake of the twins, you force it down, letting Carter take sips of your unsweetened ice tea as he balks at the taste and then asks for more. Leah is busy talking Ransom’s ear off about her drawing, insisting that it needs to go on the fridge.

But you see the hints of Ransom that you saw prior.

Before the twins were even conceived.

His fingers tap on the table, pulling out his phone multiple times before placing it back into his pocket. The sliver of dread that was dormant for so long bubbles back up, making you forget to breathe for a moment until Carter snaps you out of it.

“More, Mommy, please,” Carter asks, opening his mouth to accept the glass as you let him hold it.

Still, Ransom can’t be still, his energy going back to Leah as she colors before the check is placed down and Ransom quickly drops his credit card down.

“Are you taking the kids back?” he asks.

“I have to get their things from your house,” you remind him, seeing him nod quickly as he downs the rest of his water.

“Right,” he answers. “I forgot.”

-

The twins go down, unceremoniously, for a nap while they are in the car on the ride home. You both carry them up the stairs, placing them into their beds before you head back down to wait for him.

When he finally gets there, you don’t know exactly what to say.

Only what you feel.

“Ransom,” you call out, his head lifting at his name being called. “Don’t.”

Thick silence settles between you both.

“Don’t,” you whisper.

He doesn’t answer you as you stand in front of him.

“Don’t, do you hear me?”

Ransom nods, eyes glassy before a tear slides down his cheek, his gaze over your head.

“How long has it been?”

“Three years, four months, three weeks.”

His body goes slack when you hug him, head on his chest as he lets out a shuttered breath.

“I wouldn’t,” he says above your head. “I promise.”

You pull away just enough to cradle his face in your hands.

“He doesn’t have a hold on you any longer, okay? You did this all on your own. Be proud of that. I’m proud of you. The twins are proud of you.”

The twitch of his lip lasts only seconds before he begins to cry, silent tears as you nod, wiping them away slowly.

“Three years, four months, three weeks,” you repeat softly. “And alive to see it through.”

His forehead touches yours, his nose bumping into yours before he moves slightly, his lips on yours as he kisses you. It’s soft, vulnerable in a way before he stops himself.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, looking into your eyes. “I shouldn’t -”

You silence him with another kiss, fingernails scoring his scalp lightly as he finally exhales.

“The kids can stay here tonight,” you whisper, breaking the kiss as he lets you go. “I’ll stay on the couch.”

“No,” he answers quickly. “I’ll take the couch. You can take the bed… or one of the guest bedrooms if you want. I’ll stay down here.”

You nod, moving past him to head back up the stairs, looking back at him as his body language is back to normal, the sound of the light in the kitchen turning on as the fridge opens.

Carter is nowhere to be found when you check on him, searching until you find him in Ransom’s bed. You want to move him, climbing onto the bed to move him back to his room when he protests in his sleep. You lay next to him, smoothing back his hair before exhaustion takes over. You’ll sleep for a few moments before you move, you think.

-

Both you and Carter are asleep, Ransom lowering himself onto the bed gently as he leaves the pile of blankets he was going to take down the stairs at the end of the bed. Carter buries his face in your arm, an imprint of his sweater still on his cheek.

Time stands still in this moment.

His hand hovers over your cheek before he lets it settle against your soft skin, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek.

He doesn’t miss the soft smile in your sleep, unaware of the vibration of your phone on the nightstand, notifying you of the two missed calls from Steve.

Chapter Text

There’s a method to how you move, a careful shimmy out of a tangle of little limbs, tiptoeing to the window to see the thick fog that has settled. Grabbing your phone from the nightstand, it’s early enough to know what you should be asleep but the jarring moment you first woke up and realized you were back in your old bedroom had caused you to reevaluate your decision of staying until the twins woke up. Hesitation at the sight of them asleep, Leah’s neon green casted arm crossed over Carter’s makes you snap a quick picture, knowing that in a few hours, they’ll be arguing.

The missed calls from Steve give you an excuse to leave the room, chewing on your lower lip at the two missed calls. Before Steve, there had been a freedom in doing what you wanted, without cause to explain or reason. There’s an apology at the tip of your tongue when you finally reach the bottom of the stairs, hearing him pick up on the first ring.

“Hey,” he greets you. “Good morning.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out quickly, hoping that whatever he was calling for wasn’t that important. From the sound of his voice, he seems fine and that makes you feel somehow worse.

“Don’t be. I figured you were busy last night, wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Covering your face with your hand, you realize you missed a dinner date.

“Oh my god, Steve, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t even worry about it. I figured you had something else going on.”

“The twins had their outing with their father and then I just lost track of time. I’m so sorry, Steve. I can’t believe I forgot.”

“Hey,” Steve soothes. “It’s alright. The kids come first.”

“Okay.”

“I actually am glad you called though. The conference is in a week. Have you given any thought of if you want to come?”

You can hear Ransom coming down the stairs, thinking about how you’d have to explain to Ransom that you are taking the kids to a whole other coast for a week and a half.

“Can I give you an answer by tomorrow?”

“Take your time. Hey, I have to get back, sorry. I’m on call for the hospital and I just got ping. I’ll call you a little later, if that’s okay?”

“Sure.”

“Perfect. Bye sweetheart.”

“Bye.”

He hangs up, heat flooding your face at the pet name when Ransom glances at you. His usual perfectly slicked down hair hangs over his forehead, giving him a boyish appearance.

“Still here.” His voice is thick with sleep, rubbing his eyes as he yawns. “Came down to make some coffee. I don’t know why I thought you’d left.”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Coffee then?” Ransom offers, moving into the kitchen as you follow.

You remember this routine. Waking up to the scent of coffee, the mug waiting for you, made just the way you liked it. Ransom plucks the pods from the cabinet, dropping them into the machine.

“I’m sorry about Georgie.”

His apology hangs in the air, your eyes on him while he busies himself pulling out the cream from the fridge.

“I didn’t realize he’d be there.”

“Shit, I didn’t either,” Ransom quips, raking a hand through his hair. “I just… I saw red. Kind of hard to call him a friend when I think about all he did. What I did.”

“He’s nothing.”

“He was something,” Ransom counters. “We were thick as thieves. You know that. He never had any bad ideas. Everything came so easily for him. Didn’t realize that meant it was easy to stab me in the front and the back. He’s still not clean, by the way. Doubt he ever has been.”

“You still have your sobriety. He can’t say that.”

“I wish he did get clean, you know? So he could see what he’s missed. How he’s still ruining his life. But it isn’t up to me and I have to be okay with that.”

“Why him?” you ask, Ransom placing the mug under the machine as it finally warms.

“Why him what?”

“Why did you choose him over me?”

It’s a question you could never ask in front of Dr. Gray. It implies emotions that you aren’t ready to accept, to open doors that you are not sure that you can look inside of. Nevertheless, the question slips from your lips and Ransom stops, his back to you, his shoulder slumping slightly.

“Because I knew you’d leave.”

“What?”

He turns, placing the steaming mug of coffee in front of you, shaking his head while he reaches for the cream and sugar.

“I didn’t deserve you from the moment I met you. Everyone told me that. If anyone was going to stick by my side, for worse or to remind me you were out of my league, it was Georgie,” Ransom reminds you, stirring your coffee quickly with a spoon while you watch. “How many times did you leave me? How many times did I beg for you to return? You were sick of me. Georgie told me you’d leave eventually and you did.”

The spoon is plucked from your cup, Ransom placing it in his mouth as he gives a slight nod to you, tossing the spoon into the sink.

“I left because I had to.”

“I never said you didn’t have a reason. You asked me a question and I gave you an answer.”

Blinking at his response, you realize that you got your answer. It’s anticlimactic but the wave of depression that crashes over you makes you swallow.

“I wanted you to give a shit about me,” you murmur, reaching for your coffee. “And it seemed impossible.”

“At the time it was. I couldn’t love anyone. Not even myself. You think I wanted to spend my days at the country club with Georgie? Getting high in the upper rooms and leaving hours later like we didn’t polish off thousands of dollars of blow? His driver stopped dropping me off because we were out of control.”

“That’s when your mother started dropping you off.”

You take a sip of the coffee.

It’s perfect, even more bittersweet with the conversation you’re having.

“That lasted a whole two weeks. She started making excuses as to why she couldn’t come get me. Uber drivers were just asking for trouble. I was in too deep by the time you left me.”

“Which time?”

Ransom lifts his head at your question.

“The final time.”

The loud thud from upstairs makes you both stare at each other, Ransom pulling out the orange juice and two cups in preparation as you hear them before you see them.

“Mommy! Daddy!”

-

“I needed this,” Steve groans happily, finishing the last of his wine, eyeing you attempting to get up to clear off the coffee table before he puts his hand out to block you. “Stay put. I can clean up.”

It’s Ransom’s weekend with the kids and despite the rainy night, you managed to convince Steve to pick up pizza from a little Italian place that has standing room only with high top tables, getting your order to go before he can even scout out a place to enjoy it.

He much rather prefers you under his arm, watching The Godfather because you’ve never seen it and he has to remind himself to not spoil a single thing while you watch, chewing your pizza while you carefully lick a spot of marinara from the corner of your mouth, transfixed on Al Pacino.

Steve knows you’re tired. Even when you’d covered your mouth from the first yawn, he can see the telltale signs of exhaustion, from the way you slow blink to resting your head on his shoulder. A fancy dinner is what you deserve but even he knows that rest is priceless, a gift you can never quite have within the constraints of time.

“It’s getting late,” you murmur, smiling sleepily. “I should go.”

“Or, hear me out,” Steve counters. “You could stay.”

You look up at him, expression full of surprise, Steve nodding to emphasize his point.

“I can take the couch.”

“It’s your apartment,” you remind him, Steve caressing the side of your face, swallowing hard as you lean into his touch.

“I like you in my space.”

“Really?” you ask, almost so innocently that he can’t help but lean down to brush his lips against your forehead.

“Really.”

The desire to kiss you, to taste you just for bit, overwhelms him before he leans down again, his lips on yours. It’s short, enough for him to taste the wine.

It should be enough but he does it again, this time with you leaning into him. He pulls you on top of him gently, legs straddling either side of him when he breaks the kiss.

“I know you’re tired,” he starts, letting you kiss him. “But if you want to stop, we can.”

“I don’t,” you whisper, your mouth on his again.

His hands slide up your back, your hands against his chest to keep you upright. He’s trying to keep the hard on that is approaching at bay, not wanting to sully this moment because he doesn’t want to scare you away. But he can’t stop thinking about how soft you feel, the pads of his fingers pressing into your skin.

It’s you who makes the first move, reaching down and pulling up the hem of your t-shirt as he helps you take it off, tossing it aside. His mouth kisses a line down your neck, holding you close while you grind against him. There’s yearning in the way you kiss, the soft allowance turning into a demand when he hears your soft plea for more, drawing your skin into his mouth as he sucks a bruise onto your neck, his hand at the base of your neck to keep you in place.

Steve has never asked this of you, nor would he ever. The quiet strength that he knows you possess means that this means something to you, even if it’s for one night only and you decide you never want to see him again.

A drop of wetness hits his cheek, eyes opening at the sight of you. You’re silently crying, holding onto his shirt as you exhale, Steve stopping as your eyes flutter open.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, hiding your face in his shirt. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Steve promises, holding you close, rubbing your back gently as he hears you hiccup. “It’s alright. We don’t have to do anything else.”

“I want to but…” you pause, his shirt wet from your tears. “I can’t.”

“You don’t have to, sweetheart. I promise.”

He cups your face when you finally lift your head, giving you a smile that you try to return, sniffling as he kisses your forehead.

“I think we both need sleep,” Steve says, your nod of agreement coming quickly while you try to move off of his lap. “I’ll stay on the couch.”

“No,” you deny. “I want you to stay with me. Please.”

-

You’re half asleep, Steve’s finger tracing a line down your side as the rain pelts against the large window.

This feels foreign, like you shouldn’t be here in his bed, even if it feels like the right place to be. Trying to tamp down the feeling of guilt, you have no idea where it comes from, even if you know that you should allow yourself to have this, without fear of any judgement.

Steve is warm, solid against you before his hand takes yours for a moment, kissing your shoulder as your eyes close. Somewhere deep down, you know there’s a hint of shame somewhere, wondering for a moment where your shirt is, a thought that instantly leaves your head when Steve kisses your cheek.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

“Mhm.”

He relaxes at your response, your eyes closing as you make your decision. It's one that you know you still have to figure out with Ransom but for now, it feels freeing to give him an answer.

“Steve?”

“Yes?”

“California sounds like a good plan.”

Chapter Text

Leah cranes her neck to look over at her brother’s painting, hard at work as his tongue pokes out of the side of his mouth in concentration, her eyes diverting back to her project while Steve paces back and forth, minding the way Leah bolts from the living room to her bedroom, making a beeline without much regard to the near collision had Steve not seen her.

“A few changes,” Steve continues, watching you inside Carter’s room, placing his folded shirts into his overnight bag. “Three extra tickets. I don’t mind if I have to be bumped from the flight. Together is preferred but as long as the additional three sit together. That’s priority, please.”

Leah narrowly avoids another impact, Steve taking a step back when she runs back to her project, a modeling clay box in her hands before Steve hears the rip of the cardboard, his attention toward the twins for a moment while they work diligently on their gifts for Ransom. Father’s Day has taken on a new meaning, Carter explaining to Steve when he stepped through the door that it was a ‘big deal’. Never one to argue with a determined toddler, Steve simply listened and had helped them settle into the living room to finish their projects.

“First class? Perfect, I’ll take it,” Steve murmurs, giving you a wink while he peeks back in over the twins, ending the call.

It’s quiet, nearly perfect harmony, save for Leah’s little comment on the colors of the picture Carter is working on.

He ignores her, simply dipping his brush into the plastic cup of water, flicking it at her as she screeches in indignation.

“Steve! He wetted my shirt!” Leah wails, her little voice carrying as Steve holds his hand over his phone.

You swoop in without a word, giving Carter a stare and then one to Leah.

“Be nice to each other,” you remind them, Leah looking at her shirt. “It’s just water, Leah. Carter, you know you aren’t supposed to do that. Leah, we say nice things or…”

“Nothing else,” Leah replies glumly, tearing up the plastic to grab a piece of the clay.

A careful eye from you means Steve now turns to make sure she doesn’t accidentally sneak a piece in her mouth while you head back into the room.

He knows you’re nervous.

You haven’t told Ransom that the twins will be gone for a week and he can tell, especially now as the hours dwindle down, that you’re still trying to figure out how to explain it to him. He heard you practicing in Leah’s room, zipping up her overnight bag while you mumbled to yourself that this was ‘good for the twins and for everyone involved’ before you ended up focusing on something else, eyebrows still furrowed while you dumped out a packet of stale goldfish crackers from a plastic baggie.

This trip is an emotional investment.

Steve knows that. He can see if by how you’ve marked off the calendar in your planner, scheduling everything before and after the trip. He’s even managed to snag refundable tickets, just in case that things don’t go well and you don’t have to worry about the financial burden you’ve sworn up and down you have already put him in.

“Almost ready?” Steve asks you, your head snapping up at attention.

“Yeah,” you reply, looking at the carefully packed bags. “I think so.”

-

Harlan envelops the twins into a hug, Ransom heading down the stairs, both of them unaware that he’s on the last step before Leah peeks her head up, shouting in glee. It feels like you should be here, staying here longer than you know you will be, like a picture-perfect family.

The twins insisted on a large amount of tissue paper stuffed inside the bags that they take from your hands, circling around Ransom until he herds them toward the den. You don’t follow, Harlan standing up, giving you a long look.

“I know that face,” he hints, giving you a slight nudge.

“I need to talk to him about something.”

“Is it Linda? She’s still not meddling where she doesn’t belong, is she?”

That’s a whole other story, something that you had also factored into this conversation with Ransom.

“I was thinking of taking the twins on a trip,” you begin, your voice trailing off.

With another man, who isn’t their father, you think to yourself, Harlan nodding.

“Ah, but I suppose it’s much more complicated than it’s presented. Have they eaten lunch yet? I think Fran was wanting to make them something to eat.”

“Not yet.”

Harlan brightens, poking his head into the den to see the twins on Ransom’s lap, both of them talking excitedly about their gifts. Over their heads, your eyes connect, Harlan clearing his throat.

“I’ll let her know,” he says, giving you a slight push toward the den. “Better get a head start.”

Leah and Carter both watch Ransom examine their gifts, his eyes slightly welling up as Leah touches his face.

“No cry, Daddy,” she says, pushing her little face against his. “It’s yours, not Carter’s.”

“Mine’s is yours too, Daddy. Not Leah’s,” chimes Carter.

“I love them both, thank you,” Ransom says after a moment, both the twins cuddling him close before they feel your presence.

“Are you hungry?” That’s all you can ask at the moment, the twins nodding excitedly.

“Starving!” Leah says dramatically, your head shaking at her eyes rolling back in her head as she clutches her belly.

“I think Fran wanted to make you some-”

The sound of their shoes squeaking on the hardwood floor is all that you can hear, leaving you and Ransom alone while he places his gifts back into the bags.

“Happy Father’s Day,” you start, unsure of where to begin.

“Thanks, it’s my first one… that I’ve known about.” There’s no malice to it, the way he says it with a slight smile.

There doesn’t need to be when you can feel the slight hurt in his statement.

“I wanted to… run something past you.” It shouldn’t be this hard to get the words out. If this was a year ago, you’d have done this without any regret. “I want to take the twins on a trip.”

“A trip,” Ransom repeats. “I’m assuming we aren’t talking in and around Boston.”

“Not exactly. It’s for a few days. A week.”

“A few days or a week?” Ransom questions, his smile fading.

“A week.”

“Okay.”

You’re aware that he’s processing, his elbows on his knees while he looks at you.

“I want to take them to California and -”

“California?”

“Yes. California. They’ve never been to Disneyland or any other state and I know that it seems like a lot but it’s not a full week. It’s Monday through Friday and we’ll be back by the evening on Friday so you’ll still get your weekend.”

“Did you run this past Andy?”

You sigh, knowing the reason he’s asked.

“I did. He said I needed to… get your approval. The terms of the agreement are that both of us have to agree to it.”

Ransom nods, looking down at the bags. You can tell he wants to say something, the tension between you both nearly suffocating.

“California is where Steve’s conference is, right? I assume he’ll be with you.”

“You can still say no.”

He can say no and you’ll go back and relay the information. Unpack the luggage that you’ve already started on and continue to live your life. It’s more than that, of course. You’ll be giving up a piece of your old self, the one who took chances. It’ll be a blowback to throwing caution to the wind but you’ll do it for peace.

For the twins.

For Ransom.

“I didn’t say I was going to say no. I’m surprised, is all. Didn’t think it was getting that serious.”

“It’s a chance to see if it is,” you admit, shocked at your own words. “But it’s also to have the twins go somewhere that isn’t New England.”

“And if I said no?”

“I’d respect the choice.”

Ransom nods, standing up and moving past you.

“I need some time to think about it,” Ransom answers after he pauses to look out the window. “Not the answer you probably wanted and I’m not trying to string you along. I just… need to think about it.”

“I understand.”

“When’s the trip?”

“A week from now.”

He scoffs, shaking his head.

“Good of you to wait until now to tell me.”

“I’ve been trying to think of a way to ask you. This isn’t easy, I’m trying to balance so many things and you have no idea -”

“You’re right, I have no idea. No idea how I’ve fought like hell to keep my mother off our backs and her lawyers. To fire my own and hire another so that they play nice with each other. I know I don’t deserve transparency but for the sake of our kids, I think I’m owed that at least,” Ransom mutters, raking a hand through his hair while he blows out a breath. “A week isn’t going to be that big of a deal. I know that. It just feels like it. Thousands of miles away and I’m still trying to be a good father to them and I wonder if…”

“He’s not replacing you,” you answer, standing behind him.

You’re met with silence, Ransom’s head slightly bowing before you hear a sniffle.

“I’ll give you an answer by the end of the week,” Ransom replies, moving past you while you reach out to touch him, your hand lowering at the sound of Leah bellowing for her father.

-

Staring up at the ceiling, Ransom hears your laughter on the TV. He can’t bring himself to look at it again, the way your eyes are so full of hope and love.

Wedding video replay #4.

Dr. Gray has hailed it as progress, even when he can’t form a single word when she asks him about the details. He remembers everything, down to the way you changed shoes from the wedding to the reception, running up behind him to surprise him before the wedding pictures began.

He remembers his vows, saying them in unison with a former version of himself who never deserved you in the first place. It feels also taboo to see himself in the video, camera focused on his eyes, pupils full blown.

To the unknowing, it’s love.

To Ransom, it’s the blow he’d consumed on the coffee table before he had put on his tuxedo, finishing right before his father had knocked on the door. Just enough to keep him above surface so that he didn’t slip into the depths of his despair.

“Ransom, that was your last chance to run,” Georgie says with a shit eating grin. “Now you’re one of them.”

Deep down, he wanted to be one of them.

The husband that his father never was, the sort who would come home to you and never even think about entertaining the thought of being in someone’s bed that wasn’t yours. There were dreams back then, some within reach and others behind his eyes that hung out on the horizon of his reality. He could also feel the domesticity of coming home to you and only you.

Because he’d done it before, countless times before he was pulled back into the abyss of drugs and selfishness.

He’d do it now without hesitation, even as he thinks of the two precious gifts you’d given him that are sleeping across the hallway. Fate had been cruel that morning he’d seen the bright eyes of two children who were mesmerized by him. It was much more than a child’s glance at a stranger. It was putting a puzzle piece together one by one, cautious because of what he knows now.

You’d never shied away from teaching them who he was, even when you cut every piece of him out of your life.

Or so you tried.

He lifts his head up just to see the ending, the way he kisses you as if the world was going to end. Perhaps in that version of him, he assumed it was going to. It was all a matter of time. Running from a villain that was created out of his own shortcomings and failures.

He doesn’t realize that the tears are dripping down his cheeks until he grabs his car keys, splashing against the metal before he wipes his face.

-

Sitting cross legged on the couch, you’re wide awake, looking out at the city from the darkness of your apartment. Time seems to pause, save for the blinking of the airplane lights from above. Your thumb swipes up to look at the long text you’ve drafted to Ransom. There’s an apology but also an explanation, one that you feel you probably don’t need to give but it’s worth telling him why you’ve waited for so long.

Why it’s so complicated to make a move when for others it would not have been a second thought.

Closing your eyes, you’re unsure if you’re hearing things but the sound is faint again, giving you pause.

The knock that comes is one that is familiar. Four in quick succession, enough for you to know who it is.

You don’t expect the figure standing in front of your door when you open it, his eyes still filled with tears that immediately bring on your own.

Unspoken, you let him come into the apartment, the window blinds pulled back so that he can see the view.

His sigh of relief catches your attention, enough for you to see him stand at the window, resuming your place on the couch.

“I didn’t know where to go,” he explains, still not facing you. “I can’t go back to the alternative.”

Your hand touches the space next to you, waiting for him to accept your silent invitation.

When he does, it’s still quiet, his hands moving up and over his knees, a nervous habit that you had caught onto when you first started dating.

“I meant it,” he says after a moment. “When I made that vow that I’d always make you coffee. You laughed and said I’d never remember how you like it. I still remember how, I swear.”

Sucking in a breath at his words, you blink back tears at the confirmation that he watched the video. Your throat forms a lump, emotions rushing to the surface so quickly that you can’t breathe. Circling your arm in his, he stops, sucking in a breath while your head settles on his shoulder, a tear rolling down your cheek and onto his sweater.

“I know, Ransom.”

Chapter Text

There’s a handful of times Ransom has been a praying man.

Once to get clean, staring at his reflection in the mirror after a particularly hard night, nostrils bright red and dark circles underneath his eyes, his mouth feeling like it was packed with cotton. He’d lost count of how many days since he had gone on a binge, empty liquor bottles strewn across the hotel bathroom floor. He’d prayed hard that morning, gripping the sink, fighting to remember what to say to whatever higher power would listen.

Another time to bring you back home, his fingers pressing against the fabric of his pants when he was sitting in the parking lot of your job. The vivid scene of your chest rising and falling, the soft whimper of your distress when he’d tried to calm you down from another letdown, another egregious sin that he had committed against you. You could smell the unnamed woman on him, lamenting that you would never measure up to whatever he was chasing, even as he lied to you and told you that you were enough. He’d prayed hard for the guidance for you to come home, to be enough to help him fight his demons.

A feverish prayer of gratitude when he finally woke from what seemed like years of sleep, only to find out he was under tubes, ventilators and the watchful eye of a team of doctors who were watching his every move.

Making a deal with whoever would listen when he first saw the twins. He didn’t pray for sleep that night after he saw them, replaying Leah’s wide-eyed wonder at the man who stood behind her and his son who had a touch of cynicism about him, even at his young age. He’d prayed that his children wouldn’t grow up like him, bored of a life that he didn’t take advantage of, turning to the vices that made him the shell of who he had become before he had come into their lives.

His solace isn’t a church.

Not now, anyway, not with the shadows that creep into his mind that could lead him to think the worst of himself and the pathway to feeling better is one that could find him on the precipice of a relapse.

His place of refuge is a kitschy coffee shop, his pastor a man a burly man with a beard and kind eyes.

“California isn’t a short trip,” Ari quips, pouting a dash of creamer into his coffee mug. “I assume it was a mutual decision?”

“Sure,” Ransom answers, watching the condensation on his glass of water form into droplets that slide down and onto the coaster. “ I didn’t have much of an excuse to say no, you can’t let my children go across the country to Disneyland.”

“It’s more than that.”

Ransom shrugs, trying to ignore the needling feeling that he should admit how he feels, especially to his sponsor.

“Go on.”

Ransom hates the way Ari can make a conversation seem so simple.

“Makes it real, I guess. She and Steve are getting pretty serious.”

“Sounds like.”

“But that didn’t stop her from letting me come over the night prior.”

“Ransom,” Ari sighs. “In what context are we talking about?”

“There was a lot of emotion.”

“I’m sure there was,” Ari agrees. “But that’s not what I asked. Did you sleep together?”

“No,” Ransom rushes out, his face hot with embarrassment. “But does that matter?”

“It does when you want me to think that you had some emotional, physical aspect to you going over to her apartment. It means you’re still not looking at the truth. I appreciate the candid conversation but let’s be honest here, you could have told her no, that the agreement is that the kids stay local. You didn’t do that. Why?”

“If I said no,” Ransom begins, twisting around his signet ring. “She would have asked why and I didn’t have an answer. I can’t tell her that I’m jealous that she’s seeing another man that isn’t me. We’ve had some nice moments. Doesn’t feel like I should fuck that up by telling her she can’t live her life.”

Ari nods in agreement, Ransom blowing out a hard breath.

“Happy?”

“No,” Ari denies. “Are you?”

“I feel like shit. More than anything, I want to call her, I want to talk to the kids, but I don’t know if they landed and -”

“You know they landed. I saw the flight tracker on your phone. Be honest with me, Ransom. This is a safe space, I’m not here to judge. Unless of course, you want to continue blowing smoke up my ass.”

“I fucked up,” Ransom says quietly, reaching for his coffee cup. “That’s all I can say. Sometimes, I’ll dream about her, and the kids and it feels so goddamn real and then I wake up and it’s…”

He exhales a shaky breath.

“If I have to do this every day for the rest of my life, then I will because it means I still see another day and I get a chance to be around my kids. But I’d be lying if I said waking up from that dream doesn’t fucking hurt every time,” he finishes, trying to will away the tears that well up in his eyes.

“You’re going to get through this. I don’t know where the cards lie for you and her, Ransom, I can’t see the future. But what I do see, is someone who is taking his sobriety seriously and is a loving father to his kids. That part isn’t a dream. That’s real.”

“Yeah.”

Ari leans forward, placing his hand over Ransom’s. It shouldn’t matter but Ransom lowers his head, holding back the tears.

“It’s okay not to be okay, Ransom. We’re our worst enemies sometimes. Be a friend to yourself for once. You deserve that.”

-

Leah and Carter sleep side by side, the other bed untouched while you take them in. The hotel suite is massive, almost the same size as your apartment. It had been too quiet after a while, hearing them play before their voices had faded out.

When they babies, you used to have to place them side by side, each one reaching out for the other until they made contact. Usually it was arm and arm, a confirmation that the other was present, both waking up when you moved them to a more comfortable position. While too young to know what jetlag is, you know their signs of their exhaustion well, covering them up with a blanket after kissing their foreheads.

The sun is a hazy pink and purple from the balcony, the breeze rushing against your skin as you close your eyes. Miles away and you’re still yearning for something, nameless and indescribable, even if you’re in a Southern California paradise.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Steve says behind you, stepping outside.

“It is,” you agree. “The view is pretty.”

“I meant you, but I’ll agree to that,” Steve says, wrapping his arms around you, your back against his chest. “Are you happy you came?”

“Yes,” you answer quickly, reaching up to bring him closer. “I’m still trying to process that I’m away from… everything.”

“Doesn’t happen often, I know,” Steve says, kissing your cheek. “But you and the kids deserve a break. It’s been a lot of learnings, a lot of big emotions for the kids.”

Me too, you think.

“Tomorrow I’ll be gone for the majority of the day, but you and the kids are more than welcome to explore, and I can have a car take you wherever you want to go. I get about an hour for lunch if you want to come down and hear all about the advancements in pediatric medicine.”

“Lunch sounds nice.”

“Really?” Steve sounds happily surprised, your face turning toward his. “Then, it’s a date.”

“Thank you for this,” you reply, brushing a stand of his hair off his forehead. “We needed this.”

“We all did,” Steve agrees, leaning forward when he kisses you gently, your fingers going to the collar of his shirt as you pull him closer.

-

An unexpected cold snap takes hold in Anaheim, the temperature dropping at least fifteen degrees that catches you off guard, Carter slightly shivering when he runs back inside, declaring that is too cold.

The layers of clothing work well to keep them comfortable, both of their hands in yours while they tell you what they plan to do when they finally reach their coveted destination of the theme parks that they’ve been watching non-stop. If you follow their plans, you won’t have a single moment to sit down or eat but you listen carefully, asking them questions that they have answers for, delighted that you agree with their choices.

The convention center is massive, following signs that point in the direction of where they are supposed to go. The twins wave and say hello to everyone they meet, asking for a treat when they see a doctor who looks like their former pediatrician, who pats her pockets before apologizing and waving goodbye to them.

In the crowd of people, Carter and Leah spy Steve before you go, letting go of your hands and running full speed, despite your pleas for them to slow down.

You catch up to them right when they are lifted into Steve’s arms, giggling when you see the other person standing next to him, smiling at the twins. She’s immaculately put together, right down to the designer bag that is slung over her shoulder, her hair freshly done and makeup applied flawlessly.

“Hi,” Steve says, giving you a quick kiss before motioning to the person next to him. “You’re right on time. Let me introduce you to Doctor Sharon Carter, she and I used to be colleagues back when I worked in Brooklyn. Sharon, this is my -”

“Nice to meet you,” Sharon greets you, extending her hand to yours as you shake it. “I had no idea that Steve had a whole family.”

“Oh, I -” you try to interrupt.

“This is Leah and Carter,” Steve says, the twins squirming out of his arms as they slide back down to the ground.

“Yours?” Sharon asks.

“Maybe one day,” Steve answers.

“Interesting. Cute kids you have. Have a good lunch,” Sharon says, turning to Steve. “Don’t forget where we’re sitting. Then there’s happy hour at the end of all the madness.”

“Sure,” Steve replies, taking your hand, not seeing when you look back at Sharon, the twins grabbing your hand and Steve’s.

“See you there!”

-

Steve’s cell buzzes on the table, his expression apologetic when he finally answers a text.

“Sharon?” you ask, glancing at the twins coloring outside of the lines, Carter holding onto a chicken tender while he selects another crayon.

“Yeah,” Steve says, his brow furrowing when he dials her number. “I’ll be right back.”

Getting up from his chair, you can hear his voice lower.

“I’m at lunch, what’s going on?” he asks, maneuvering around the tables, his voice fading amid the sounds of utensils against plates and loud chatter.

Trying to ignore the pit that is spreading in your belly, you focus on the twins, Leah chewing on a French fry while Carter dips his chicken into the big cup of ranch. You want to eat, your stomach grumbling as you had skipped breakfast to make sure that the twins were fed and now you’re paying for it, feeling lightheaded for a moment before shaking the feeling away.

The insecurity sneaks in without warning. The perfect hair Sharon has that you know you will never achieve, let alone sitting that long at a salon without any interruption, to the expensive tailored outfit that you know you would never fit into after childbirth renders you speechless at how quickly the comparisons have come, a flashback to when you found out Ransom had been in the company of one of your bridesmaids, blond and coiffed like Sharon.

But she wasn’t Sharon and Sharon isn’t her, the mantra repeating over and over in your mind.

She isn’t going to sleep with Steve. She isn’t going to lie right to your face when you confront her like your former friend did.

But you don't know that for sure, even if you trust Steve.

Questions float up to the surface of your thoughts. Why didn’t Sharon know about you? Was she supposed to?

None of the feelings that begin to rise are rational, trying to keep yourself calm when Leah and Carter begin to argue over their favorite crayon, their voices getting louder before you look down at the mess of food and broken crayons.

“What happened?” Steve interrupting your thoughts, leaning down between the twins, reaching for a napkin to clean up the spilled water.

“I… I don’t know,” you answer, getting up from your chair, scooping up the broken crayons into a napkin, moving quickly to tidy up the space.

“Is everything okay?” he asks you, the twins back to normal, as if they didn’t have a category three argument.

“It’s fine,” you assure him, a waitress coming by with two sets of crayons to assuage any arguments. “Just a little blow up.”

“Not them,” he says quietly, sitting back down next to you. “Are you okay?”

His phone buzzes once more, your nerves getting to you. He makes no motion to answer it, even as you can hear it in his suit pocket.

“Do you want to answer that?”

“No,” Steve tells you. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” you reply, suddenly irritated that he won’t answer it. “If it’s Sharon, you can just answer it.”

“It is,” Steve agrees. “But it can wait.”

“No, go ahead and answer it,” you answer, trying to calm yourself down. “It keeps going off so just… answer it.”

“Did I miss something?”

“You didn’t get any texts from her until today and now…” you trail off, seeing Steve’s confused expression as you fight back tears. “Forget it. Leah? Carter? There’s a playground a little bit from here and they have swings. Do you want to go?”

The twins perk up, the crayons rolling around the table as Steve blinks in confusion.

“You’re leaving?”

“I’m going to take them to the park.”

“We’re eating lunch. I don’t understand,” Steve tries, watching you get up. “Can you just tell me what happened?”

“She’s asking me about the surprise symposium we’re supposed to be doing,” Steve informs you, pulling out his phone. “I can show you the texts.”

“No, you don’t have to,” you reply softly, digging through your purse, tears welling in your eyes.

That’s how it started, you recall bitterly, placing money on the table. The friendly texts, the questions that Ransom would answer. You always were offered those to read and pour over, even when you declined.

It was the others that you weren’t allowed to see.

“We will talk about this when you’ve processed things and I’m in a better headspace,” Steve says, leaning toward you so that only you can hear. “I’ll see you later.”

The kids wave goodbye, Leah carefully looking up at you as she pouts.

“Mommy, don’t cry,” Leah pleads, your head lowering to see her sweet little face. “What did we do?”

“Nothing, sweetheart. You did nothing wrong. Mommy just needs some fresh air, I promise. It’s so warm,” you lie, fanning yourself as Carter follows suit near your face. “I’ll be fine once we get outside.”

“Go faster!” Carter chimes in, Leah pulling you toward the door. “Bye Steve!”

-

“You and Sharon did a fantastic job with such short notice,” Sharon’s husband praises. “I mean it, I just was blown away at how you can take such a hard subject and turn it into a masterclass.”

“Only a little frustrating,” Sharon admits, giving Steve a slight jab on his arm with her elbow. “Sorry you had to deal with all my texts with my edits. The minute Doctor Erskine asked where you went, I knew it was something big. I’m so sorry I panicked.”

“It’s fine,” Steve assures her. “We figured it out and with any luck, Doctor Erskine will realize he doesn’t want me up there talking for an hour and a half straight.”

“Where’s your,” Sharon pauses, sheepishly looking at him. “Girlfriend? Wife?”

“She’s at the hotel with the kids.”

“Scratch that happy hour then, I thought you brought her. Go be with them. You know how these happy hours are. All the booze and none of the networking. Whatever they are to you, those kids are adorable. You’re lucky to have all of them, Steve.”

“Thanks, Sharon. I definitely am.”

Giving her and her husband a nod, he slips out the restaurant, looking down at his phone for any sign of a missed call from you, sighing when he realizes there is none.

-

The twins are in their separate beds, freshly bathed and in their favorite pajamas, unaware of the tears that stream down your face.

The cuffs of your sweatshirt are wrinkled from the amount of pulling and twisting through your fingers, guilt ridden stimuli taking over. Your throat aches with the need to shout, to scream your frustrations out to the night. The pent up rage, both at yourself and the past looks you in the face when you finally turn on the light, the mirror in the bathroom a reflection of someone you don’t recognize.

Gripping the sides of the sink and lowering your head, you begin to pray, lips moving so fast that you can’t the words out fast enough. Your tears a sacrament that drop into the sink when you bare your teeth at your transgressions, wishing that whatever higher power would give you a chance at peace. To lighten the burden you’ve carried and to give yourself grace.

Embarrassment takes hold, your body shuddering at the thought of how you acted, the way Leah’s gaze was solely on you and your tears. You don’t know how many times she’s seen you cry, and the thought only makes you pray harder, to hide your emotions from your beloved children so that they will never know the fight you continue to endure.

Exhaustion finally wins out, your knees buckling when you siip down onto the floor, eyes closing in defeat.