Chapter Text
“So, how’d you know I was so totally proposing, hm?” Jayden asks, kissing her head gently.
They’re in their bedroom, and Jackie’s pretty sure it’s the morning after their engagement party, but she was so tired when she got in that she wouldn’t be surprised if it were the afternoon. However, the signature warm morning glow on her skin tells her she’s right, and so she stretches out a little in the bed, yawning. Her head’s on Jayden’s bare chest, where she’s been obsessed with keeping it since he got his top surgery, and while she thinks she might still be in the dress she wore last night, she’s comfortable. She’s not got those annoying go go boots on anymore, at least. They were a pain in the ass to get on, considering that they’re a size too small, but they completed the look so perfectly she decided that beauty could be pain for the night. She’ll be paying the price for the next month at least, considering how badly they’ve chafed her toes. She did look good, though. She knows she looked good, considering the way that Jayden was sizing her up all night, doing that thing where he mentally assesses how much trouble he’d get in if he dragged her off to another room and made out with her til she got dizzy. Though, to be fair, he’d do that whether she was in a wedding dress or three day old pyjamas. The nail in the coffin was definitely Tommy, looking at her like she was made of stardust. But that look’s too late.
“Jay, I have just woken up. Now is not the time for storytime.” She mumbles, snuggling closer to him, with her left arm wrapped loosely around his torso.
“If I didn’t ask, you’d have accused me of not caring.” He accuses, with a clearly joking tone threaded underneath. He strokes her hair lightly, which she knows takes epic restraint, considering how heavy handed he is after all his years of building muscle.
“Lies. Slander. Liebel.” She murmurs, tracing circles on his stomach with her right hand. “Do you really wanna hear it?” She asks, looking up at him with half lidded eyes.
“Sure.” He replies, a twinkle dotted throughout his face. “It’ll teach me how to surprise you better next time, I’m sure. I’m good at learning from my mistakes.”
She huffs playfully. “Alright, then. So. I first guessed about, hm, I don’t know, I think maybe the week before…”
— — — — — — —
She’s finally finished the last shift before the Easter holidays, and it’s gratifying. She loves all the kids she teaches, and there’s always an immense sense of joy at their every achievement, but that doesn’t stop her from needing a break. For patience to rebuild, you have to relax once in a while. And so, the second she gets into her car, she’s driving straight to the salon and treating herself. She’s always loved going to the nail salon, loved gossiping with the technician, building a rapport. She’s always loved having a little impermanent piece of art on her, that she can switch out at her will. Sometimes she’ll go in with vague concepts of a design, sometimes she’ll let the artist have free reign, and no matter what, she’s always satisfied with the result. She usually goes and gets them done every two weeks, but she couldn’t find the time last week due to staying behind for a few extra hours for her year eleven students. This has had Jayden… notably twitchy. He’s been making mild little comments about it all week, trying to sneak in questions of when she’d be getting them done, and it’s made her slightly suspicious. Jayden isn’t really the type to want her to have her hair, nails and makeup done every second of the day, at least partially because she’d break up with him, so it’s at least a little odd.
“Jackie. He’s proposing to you.” Rebekka tells her, while starting the process of taking the old set off, concentrating on her hands. “If he’s bringing it up when he never has done before he’s either gotten randomly misogynistic out of nowhere or he’s giving you something that’s gonna end in a lot of pictures of your hands. And nine times out of ten, that’s a proposal.”
“He could just be giving me a car! My birthday’s next month, and he knows that this one’s getting kind of beat up.” She exclaims. It’s not that she doesn’t want to be proposed to, because she secretly really does, it’s just that she doesn’t think it’ll be happening any time soon. Jayden, while doing well in his career, still wants to do better, achieve further before settling down and maybe starting a family. They might be financially ready now, but that doesn’t equate to actual emotional readiness. Jayden might just not be there yet, and Jackie accepts that. A wedding ring doesn’t mean everything. It’s the kind of thing that can wait.
“And you really think you’re gonna have this set in til May?” Rebekka asks, arching an eyebrow. “Miss - soon to be Mrs - I have to change my nails every week? Come on, Jackie. He knows your habits better than that, and if he doesn’t, wake up and break up.”
“I might. I’m not a very wasteful person.” She tries, but it falls on deaf ears. “He could just be spoiling me for the sake of it. He does that a lot.” She says, and it is true. Jayden likes to splurge sometimes. They usually have something of a date night every weekend, and he buys her something lovely at least every month, with the excuse of ‘it’s our eight years and insert amount of months anniversary’. It’s just the way their relationship is. She owns the house, and she’s home more than he is, so she pays most of the utility and food bills out of her paycheck, and she’s usually the one doing the cleaning. Jayden’s the better chef, so he usually cooks when he’s not stressed out, and his paychecks go to the nice things they can afford nowadays. Days out and presents and date nights and charity donations. Her paychecks might go to the more trivial things, but she’s pretty sure she pays less than he does, considering that she’s the one who owns the house, meaning they’re not paying a thousand pounds in rent every month. It’s equal, in their own way.
“If he’s spoiling you for the sake of it, he’s cheating on you.” Rebekka tells her, in an attempt to sound wise, but Jackie doesn’t rise to it, if only because Rebekka has three sons and no stable relationship, while simultaneously being four years younger than her. “Right, I’m going to leave those to sit for a minute. I need to call Joey, apparently one of the kids’ve been chased by a dog and is now bawling their eyes out. Be back in a mo.”
Could he be proposing? They’ve been together for eight years, she’s just made head of the art department at her school, he’s almost certainly going to be an associate next year, they own a house and two cars… they’re stable in their lives. On clear paths. They’re happy in their relationship, have been for a long time, Jayden’s mum is as content with their relationship as she’s ever going to get and aside from her their respective families think of them as family. They’ve both had all the respective surgeries they want, they’re happy in their bodies, they’d be happy to look back in a photo album and see themselves as they are now. Are they really at that point where the natural next step is marriage? She’s not upset about it in the slightest, she just hadn’t realised it. She hadn’t realised that she’s now at the age that people get engaged, and then get married. It’s always felt like there’s so much left to do, like they were always too busy, and now they’re… not. They’re comfortable. And the thought fills her with something that’s not quite excitement, more just… anticipation. Wonder as to what the next chapter of their lives together is going to bring. Engagement, and then marriage, and then kids. It feels like it’s exactly the right time for it to happen.
But she doesn’t want to get her hopes up, in case it’s just an early birthday present. She doesn’t want to expect something of him and then be upset when it doesn’t happen. It’s not exactly fair to him. And Rebekka’s coming back in now anyway, so she stuffs the thought in the back of her mind, to think about later, or maybe at her booze and binge session with Corrie on Sunday. Right now, she’s just going to focus on her nails. Only, that’s incredibly difficult to do, because the second Rebekka sits back down and begins to scrape off the acrylics with a cuticle pusher, she says: “He’s still definitely proposing.”
“No he’s not!” She protests. “If he was, he’d have asked Corrie to go ring shopping with him, and there’s no way Corrie wouldn’t have said anything. Or my dad, actually.”
“Then ask him what you should do with your nails. I’ll bet you any money that he’ll give you a specific answer, and if he does, he’s proposing.” She tells her, sounding like a teenage girl who’s been reading too many Women’s Health magazines.
“You know what? Fine. Even if it’s just to get you to pipe down.” She replies, with a harsh eye roll. It’s remarkably hard to distance the twenty two year old Rebekka from Corrie’s annoying younger sister, which is probably because she hasn’t changed a bit. “My hands are all wet from the acetone, you’ll have to call him. My password’s ilovejay9.”
“That’s sweet. What’s the nine for?” Rebekka asks, busying herself with unlocking Jackie’s phone. She’ll have to change her password before her next appointment, Rebekka is known to be remarkably nosey.
“It’s the position he played on the pitch, the striker’s number nine. His password is ilovejack15, because it was my hockey number and my birthday.” She says proudly.
“Knowing his password’s a green flag.” Rebekka says approvingly, as if she knows anything about it. Jackie wills herself not to roll her eyes. “Right, I’m calling now.”
The phone only rings twice before Jayden picks up, and when he does, Jackie hears a clear: “Jello Jorgeous Jackie, this is Jandsome Jayden speaking, what can I do for yo-”
“Babe, I’m at my nail appointment.” She half shouts, and Rebekka brings the phone closer to her mouth. “I was wondering if you had any ideas for my nails, seeing as you’ve been so curious about them.” She tells him, a slight smile on her face just from hearing his voice.
“Oh, um, I really haven’t thought about it.” He replies, and she can almost hear him scratching the back of his neck. “Maybe, like, pearly. Pearlescent, that’s the word. With like, flowers.”
Rebekka mouths ‘told you so’ at her, and she rolls her eyes. “Alright, will do. I’ve gotta get back to my appointment, though, so I’m gonna love you and leave you, okay?”
“Okay. Bye, Jackie. I love you~” His voice flicks up into a sing song tone at the end, like it always does when he’s in a good mood.
“I love you too. Bye bye now.” She says, and motions for Rebekka to put the phone down. Then, she glares at her. “See? I told you so. He obviously hadn’t thought about it.”
“You are so naive.” She tuts. “That was the most prerehearsed thing I’ve ever heard in my life. Good idea, though. Are we going with the pearlescent flowers, then?”
She ignores everything else, and just goes: “We sure are.”
— — — — — — —
They’ve switched locations, now, causing a break in the story, and Jackie’s brushing her teeth while Jayden shoves some breakfast on. She loves it when they wake up at the same time, and loves sharing all of these little morning routines. Plus, he makes a mean full English. She usually doesn’t like eating breakfast that much, at most snacking on a breakfast bar before work, or maybe an apple, but Jayden’s breakfasts are an exception to the rule. And traditionally, Jayden’s meals are high protein, low carb, which typically makes them go down much easier than her dad’s morning greasefests. On top of that, he’s learned to make vegetarian sausages taste good, which was a feat previously unheard of. Jackie’s dad still can’t, he just slathers them with grease til the point you can’t tell the difference between vegetarian, carnivore and a slab of oiled up concrete. She bares her teeth in the mirror, dragging her toothbrush through her teeth, and then up and down her tongue, and a little bit on the roof of her mouth. As she does so, she realises that she never took her makeup off. Damnit. Her skin’s going to flare up like an ant on a hot day. She must’ve been incredibly blitzed at the engagement party to have forgotten, and Jayden must’ve been around the same to have not done it for her. Mascara is streaked down her cheeks, which means there must’ve been a nasty stain left on the pillowcases, which means they’ll have to be changed, when she can remember. There’s no lipstick left on her, which is probably because she peppered an irreparable amount of kisses all over Jayden’s face last night. She’ll have to have a look through her camera roll.
As she spits toothpaste down the sink, Jayden’s voice rings out through the house. “How’d you want your eggs?” He’s always so loud, when she’s literally in the next room. It’s somehow horribly endearing, as most quirks about Jayden tend to be.
“You should know how your fiancee likes her eggs!” She yells, taking a swig of mouthwash.
“I do know how my fiancee likes her eggs, but I also know that my fiancee likes to switch things up every once in a while!” He replies, and she can almost hear the smile in his voice when he says the word fiancee. Possessive fucker.
“Sunny side up, please!” She replies, once she’s finished swilling mouthwash around.
“Aye aye, Cap’n!” He calls out in response, his voice getting nearer as she leaves the bathroom. She strolls into the kitchen, and sees him, hovering over the stove. He’s mostly shirtless, with the stupid ‘kiss the cook’ apron Corrie bought when they first moved in and forgot to take back when they moved out. She’s pretty sure Jayden’s wearing it to telepathically assert dominance, at this point. His back looks good from this angle. His back looks good from any angle. She tiptoes over lightly, and presses a gentle kiss to the back of his neck. “Oh, hello gorgeous.” He murmurs, turning slightly and opening his arm to bury her in. “D’you wanna get changed while I cook? That doesn’t look comfortable.”
Oh, yeah. She’s still in her engagement party dress. “Can I not just eat naked?”
“You could eat naked and I’d still think you were hot, however I must warn you, egg yolk running down your boobs probably won’t feel hot, apart from literally.” He replies.
She punches his shoulder lightly. “Are you calling me a messy eater, Jayden?”
“I would never call you such a thing. I think every dress you’ve ever eaten in would, though. Only when drunk. You’re a perfect eater sober.” He panders.
“You’d think you’d have learnt by now that throwing a compliment at the end of the insult doesn’t make me forget the insult.” She tells him, folding her arms.
He gasps. “I’d never do such a thing. Lies. Slander. Liebel. What a defamatory accusation.”
“Must be bad if you’re bringing out your court sentences.” She smiles.
“Believe it or not, I rarely get to say defamatory in court.” He informs her sadly. “Divorce law doesn’t often require it. I’d love to branch out of Tort law some day. It’s nice and all, but when you’ve seen one divorce you’ve kind of seen them all.”
“You could always branch out into family.” She tells him, opening the air fryer curiously. To her delight, there’s a few hash browns. She picks one out, and quickly regrets it. “Ow!”
“That’s what you get.” He says, smugly. “Rinse that under the sink and then get changed so I don’t set the kitchen alight. Your presence is distracting. And I think family law would be… hard. I don’t want to have day after day of shitty parents fighting, putting little kids up on the stand to give testimonies when they can’t even spell their names yet. It’s not right.”
She turns the cold tap on, and shoves her finger under it. A little blister’s already bubbling on the tip of her finger. She does wish blisters didn’t hurt to pop. They’re so satisfying to pick at. “I am not distracting!” She protests. “And, yeah, I get that. It’d be hard. Especially when we start thinking more seriously about adoption. I mean, it’s already hard for me, seeing the kids I teach just, like, abhorred by their parents, for no reason other than the way that they were born. Or the kids I teach that are the way they are because of their parents, like - do you remember that girl I taught in my year ten class last year, Shanaiah? She was in care, got taken off her parents because they gave her shaken baby syndrome. It was awful, seeing her try so hard to communicate with me and failing. Corrie eventually set her up with an AAC that had a wider vocabulary, but even then…” She shakes her head.
“Brutal.” He responds, suddenly somber. “Anyway, get dressed, you.”
“Ugh. It’s so much easier for you. You can literally go out in that and be fine.” She grumbles, while doing exactly what he says, because he’s very sadly right. Also, she’s pretty sure she’s still in the bra from last night, and she can feel the straps digging into her shoulders.
“Yeah, but the people’d take it literally and maul me, and you’d kill me.” He calls out.
She disappears off into their bedroom, pulling her dress off over her head as she goes. Yep. Still got that irritating bra gone. It’s a size too small, because in 2023 she internalised the tutorial of this one girl who had really nice looking boobs, that included the step of always buying a size down. This has historically not worked, but she’s been buying a size down for so long that she’s kind of forgotten what her actual size is, and how tight they’re supposed to be. She really needs to get her boobs re-measured, considering that it’s been about ten years since she saw that tutorial and she’s been on oestrogen and progesterone for at least nine, but she keeps forgetting. And also, she’s historically had an irrational fear of bumping into a student whenever she goes to a taboo place. She doesn’t want to walk into work one day and have a particularly mind-speaking kid in one of her classes go ‘MISS I SAW YOU GETTING YOUR TITS MEASURED!’ at the top of their voice. It’s not even guaranteed to not happen. In mainstream education, sure, most kids probably know better than to out your teacher for that. However, when you teach children who often have difficulty understanding social etiquette, there’s always the worry that they’ll start shouting to their peers about seeing you buying booze down the off-license on a Tuesday during storytime.
She proceeds to tug on a soft nightie, because she’s pretty sure that she doesn’t have any plans today. And, honestly, what with how lazy she feels after last night, even if she does have them she’ll be showing up in pyjamas. It’s an older one, reaching about her mid thigh, in a lovely salmon pink, with little baby pink polka dots all over. Makes her feel a little Betty Boop-ish, if she ever wore pyjamas. Jackie should know that, actually. She watched the original golden age series for her media class, way back when. While it’s decently warm, she’s still adjusting to the coldness in comparison to their warm, warm bed, so she shrugs a dressing gown on top. It’s less like a real dressing gown, more like an extended bolero cardigan, but it’s comfortable, as wash-ruined as the fluff on it now is. Finally, she sits down on the bed, and tugs on some ankle socks that, from the smell, she’s guessing are Jayden’s that he forgot to wash and accidentally shoved back in the drawer. Unfortunately, his socks are usually the comfiest, so she’s stuck with them. And then, as a finishing touch, she slides on her daft looking Stitch themed fluffy slippers. Funnily enough, she doesn’t even care much for that movie, but Primark used to pump out Lilo and Stitch merch like no tomorrow, and the movies generally fit her aesthetic, so she got lumped with something stitch themed for basically every holiday. You’ve gotta love the consistency, at least.
When she walks back through to the kitchen, Jayden’s plating up, so she takes a seat at the table expectantly. Upon seeing her, Jayden barks out a laugh. “You know you could help, right?”
“...I’ll do dishes?” She replies innocently, nose twitching mischievously.
“Damn right you will.” He says, approvingly. He brings over their respective plates of breakfast, placing one in front of her, and takes his seat. “Back to your story.”
“Right, yeah.” She says, furrowing her brow. “Where was I again?”
“You were doubting me in the nail salon. Really rudely, I might add.” He grumbles.
“I wasn’t doubting you!” She half shrieks. “I just didn’t want to expect something then be disappointed if it didn’t happen, because it’d be fair and uncommunicative of me. And, as I said, I did begin to suspect you were proposing then, so there.”
He wolfs down a ridiculously stacked fork full of his meal, before going: “Carry on, then.”
Her mischievous smirk returns. “Right, so, the second time I started to suspect something was up was at movie night with Corrie- and later Adeline, though I didn’t know that yet.”
— — — — — — —
“Oh, hello, Addie, I didn’t realise you’d be joining us.” Jackie says warmly. She goes in for a slight embrace, however Adeline just steps back slightly, so she straightens herself out.
Adeline is a tall, ghostly figure in the doorway, with her long blonde hair nearly hanging all the way down to her hips. And as much as Adeline looks like a slavic cryptid, Jackie is remarkably happy to see her. She was supposed to be staying in a hotel out in Scotland the night before some prestigious antique fair, to prevent her going through the hassle in the morning, so it’s a surprise to see her. Corrie usually would’ve gone, but it’s the night of their holiday binge, the movie night they have the Sunday of every holiday break from school, and as loyal as Corrie is to Adeline, they’re not one to break out of tradition. It’s odd that Adeline’s here, though. She doesn’t join Corrie and Jackie too much of her own volition, and she especially doesn’t cancel events just to do so. It’s very weird indeed. Maybe Corrie’s just feeling a little emotional about the head of their department leaving with the holiday, and wants Adeline there to keep their emotions in check so they don’t withdraw entirely during movie nights. It would be strange even then, though, because Jackie’s never known Corrie to be very open with anyone about their emotions, and besides, she’s not entirely sure that Corrie even liked the woman very much.
“Corrie asked me to be here, so I cancelled the fair.” She replies simply.
Jackie nods along, slightly puzzled. “That’s nice, then. Right, lead me to our Cozza!”
This is where she starts to notice that something’s going on that she’s definitely not privy to. At first, she wonders if she’s being prepped to receive news. Bad news. The dog went to live on a farm kind of news, which in Adeline and Corrie world, would probably mean that they’re having a kid in some sort of immaculate conception. It’s not that she doesn’t love them, alright? She does! Corrie and Adeline are two of her best friends, even if it occasionally feels remarkably one sided with Adeline. However, they’re kid-having age, and if they were to have a kid, that child would come out like a really gay Wednesday Addams. Jackie loves the Addams family, however she thinks that it’s not exactly what the population of Soho need at the moment. Adeline would have that child speaking like a possessed Victorian doll, for Christ’s sake, and Corrie’s never had an inkling of a backbone in regards to her. Corrie might physically wear the pants, but it really doesn’t mean much when Adeline’s wearing the metaphorical and physical strap on. And so, she begins to wait for someone to drop the news. Only, it doesn’t come. She expects it to come when she’s sat down, and they’re all getting ready to watch the film, however all that happens is a simple exchange of:
“Jackie, we kind of need to tell you somethi-” Corrie starts, but is quickly cut off by a pale hand adorning their thigh, causing them to go resolutely silent.
“No, we don’t.” Adeline says, with a commanding demeanour sneaking into her softly spoken sentence. And with a slight gulp, Corrie is all but entirely dismissed.
Jackie totally feels like she’s just walked into some lesbian sex experiment. Like, she’s rather confident that Corrie has something up them right now. Or Adeline’s holding one of those remote control vibrators you always see in fanfiction and turns it up whenever Corrie tries to mention whatever it is they’re on about. The thing is, though, even if they are playing some kind of sex game, Jackie still resolutely has no idea what it is that Corrie is trying to bring up. It has to be something important, or Adeline wouldn’t be insisting they don’t say, and Corrie wouldn’t be trying so desperately to say when they’re seemingly not supposed to. And there’d have to be a good reason to hide it, better than just the potential of upsetting her. No, she’s certain that whatever it is would have to ruin something else if she knew. And maybe she should let herself wait until the news comes out. Maybe she should respect their privacy. However, there’s a sneaking suspicion in the back of her mind, and it’s wondering if Jayden’s asked Corrie to go and look at rings with him. If Jayden’s asked for advice, and they’re struggling between letting Jackie know so she can be prepared, or letting her be surprised.
However, she’s not exactly sure she wants to know. If he’s proposing, she wants her surprise to be real. Her happiness and her outfit to not have been dwelled on for five hours beforehand. She wants it to be natural. When they were younger, Jayden once said that loving her was one of the only things that ever came naturally to him. She doesn’t want to replace that magic with something artificial. So when the film’s done, and she’s at the door, and Corrie’s opening their mouth, Jackie doesn’t ask any questions when Adeline presses the berth of her hand over their face. She just thanks them for the velvetiser hot chocolate, says she can’t wait to see them again, and hops back into her car, wondering if Jayden’s home from the gym yet. And, surprisingly, she’s completely content with that.
— — — — — — —
“I can’t believe they tried to grass me up!” He exclaims, while huffing out laughter.
“It’s not their fault! They usually tell me everything and root against you, it must’ve been totally unnatural for them to keep something from me to help you!” Jackie defends, giggling.
“Still… treachery is in the air.” He mumbles, taking a final forkful and stretching. “God, that was brilliant, that. Where are the compliments to the chef, eh?”
She begins to stretch over the table and do one of those little movements that monks do when they’re bowing someone. “The compliments are all around you, chef.”
“Good…good.” He replies leisurely. “Was that the last time you guessed, though?”
“Yeah, actually.” She says, with a twinkle in her eye.
His mouth is agape, which should be unattractive when he still has the remnants of a full English on his tongue, but it isn’t. “Really?”
“Really! I honestly didn’t suspect a thing when it actually happened.” She confirms.
He blinks, entirely shocked. “Right, no, you’re going to have to talk me through your thought process there. I simply do not believe you.”
She smiles. “Okay, so…”
— — — — — — —
“Jackie, gorgeous, what’re you wearing tonight?” Jayden asks, walking up behind her and placing soft hands on her bare waist as she goes through her hair with a curling iron.
“Honey, I love you, but maybe step away from the iron. I’d prefer it if we didn’t start date night off with third degree burns.” She warns gently, and he follows suit. “Uh, not sure just yet. Might shove on a pretty dress and call it a day.”
“It’s a little cold out, sure you don’t want to put on something heavier?” He tries.
“Mmm, nah, we’ll be in the car, which has heating, and then the restaurant, which has heating. It’s mid April, Jayden. I’m sure we’ll be fine.” She smiles.
He pouts, ever so slightly, and she watches him in the mirror. “I was just going to wear my old footie jersey, and I was thinking we could match, if you put your hockey one on.”
“And wear it with what, Jay?” She laughs. “And what’re you wearing your old footie jersey for? I’m surprised that the old thing even still fits you, you’ve certainly beefed out since.”
“I was thinking you could wear it with a nice skirt…” Hands dust over her hip dips. “And maybe some tights…” Down to her bare thigh, now. “And those boots that you like.”
She sets the curling iron down, done for now, and rolls her eyes. “I’ll sweat to death.”
“You’ll be fine. It’s cold for Spring, don’t you think?” He suggests.
“You know what, alright. It is nighttime, I suppose. Dunno why you’re taking a stance against my pretty dresses, like, but I’ll wear whatever you want, as long as you pay.” She smirks.
“I am not taking a stance against pretty dresses. Let the record show that I would never do such a thing. I love your pretty dresses. Your pretty dresses are stunning. I just… have a vision, okay?” There’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.
“Okay…” She mumbles, laughing slightly to herself. “Whatever you say, honey.”
He leaves the bedroom, probably to go and shave, leaving her staring at herself in the mirror. She’s told him a million times that she loves the scruff, but he insists on having it neatly shaven. The trials and tribulations of Jackie Beale. She’s surprised that, once again, Jayden is giving some insight into her appearance of his own volition. However, she’s pretty much ruled out the idea of him proposing to her, now, because she went and saw her dad yesterday and he wasn’t bawling at the sight of her like she knows he would be if Jayden ever decided to propose to her. And so, she chalks it up to Jayden just taking a general interest in her fashion, which is nice, because it’s something she’s always loved. So she follows through with his vision, tossing on her old hockey jersey that’s still a little baggy on her frame, and steps into a short blue skirt, letting the jersey drape over it. She looks a little like a hockey girlfriend, one of the ones that used to wait out in the stands for one of her teammates, and it’s a nice thought. It’s nostalgic, if you can be nostalgic for the so high school experience that you never really got to have. And then, she sits down on the edge of the bed and pulls some tights up her legs, these lovely cotton tights in a russet shade of brown, pulls on her boots, and finally strolls over to her little vanity table and dots a little blush on the apples of her cheeks, and smooths gloss into the creases of her lips.
With that, she’s good to go, so she potters off to the bathroom to see Jayden, only to find that he’s not there. Huh. He must’ve finished, then. She walks down the stairs briskly, assuming that he’s probably down there, waiting for her, or maybe taking a phone call. He’s been taking an odd amount of phone calls recently, but it’s not unprecedented. He’s been getting bigger and bigger cases at the office recently, and it’s making it harder and harder for him to leave it at the door. She understands that. For Christ’s sake, she’s the same woman that didn’t come home til hours after work ended, running a million different extracurriculars and events and checking up on her students at home if they’ve worried her. She’s not one to judge at all, especially when Jayden often works with victims of domestic violence, trying to ensure iron clad contracts that keep them from going back again. She’d probably throw herself into it, too, and she’s grateful to have a boyfriend that cares like that about vulnerable people the same way she does. When she walks into the kitchen, however, there’s not a phone in Jayden’s hand, but a little box, sitting in the middle of his palm. She furrows her brow, and walks forward, trying to figure out what the box is for. However, the heel of her boot clicks against the tile, and he startles, spinning around, and there’s no longer a box in his hand. Huh. She must’ve imagined it.
“Oh shit, hello gorgeous.” He blurts out, blinking rapidly. “Speaking of, you look gorgeous…”
“Why, thank you.” She preens, deciding not to ask about the box. “You look rather handsome yourself, Mr Rosario.” It’s true. He does, his outfit more put together than they once were, back when they were first going out. The influence of a woman, she’d say.
“Why, thank you.” He mimics, sidling up to her. Softly, hands move to her waist, resting on the small of her back, and he kisses her, lips meeting her own gently. Then, his mouth retreats, his hands staying resolutely in place. “Are you ready to go Missu- Miss Beale?”
“I sure am.” She smiles. “Where are we going, anyway?”
“No spoilers, but you’re gonna love it…” He starts, as they get ready to leave.
— — — — — — —
Jayden is up and pacing. “You’ve got to be kidding. You saw the box? You saw the box!”
“Only for a splinter of a second!” She argues, laughing. “God, sue me for trusting you.”
“Trust is one thing, but you saw the bloody box, Jackie!” He yelps, but his eyes are twinkling. “Oh my God, I’m marrying the most oblivious woman alive.”
“Well, I’m lucky you love me, then.” She grins, and the fake anger on his face evaporates.
“You bloody well are.” He grumbles, but there’s no real malice in his tone.
“Right, can I carry on now, or are you still moaning?” She asks, dimples ever present.
He groans, slumping back down in his chair. “Ugh. I suppose you can.”
— — — — — — —
“Jayden!” She shrieks, smacking him lightly on the arm. “We agreed we were saving this place for an anniversary, not just a regular date night!” She protests.
“There’ll be other restaurants.” He shrugs it off, a smile stretching across his face.
It is, of course, the restaurant she’s been dying to go to all year. Simply named ‘Oceans’, it’s a small, but not quite cramped place in the middle of London. It’s not bustling, but not doing badly, either. It’s a hidden gem, really, but from what Jackie knows, the people who go there keep coming back. The food is lovely, none of it containing red meat, and all of it as ethically sourced as can be, and the presentation is beautiful. But the star of the show is the painting. Hired painters stand in corners of the room, painting what they see in their own style, and when you’ve paid for the meal, you can also buy a print of any painting started during your stay, and, if you’re willing to fork out a little extra, you can even buy the original. Jackie thinks it’s a beautiful idea, to be caught so candidly in paint, and she’s always suggested it as a place they could go for a milestone, like an anniversary or her birthday. She made it very clear that she didn’t want to waste it, and so they’ve held off. It’s a little weird that he’s choosing to take her here for a random date night. However, he might’ve just found a better place to take her on her birthday, which has freed up this place for regular old date nights. Still, though. It’s kind of odd. She’s not exactly upset about it, because if he’s sure that this is the right thing, even if she can’t understand it yet, he’s probably right. She trusts him.
“Whatever you say…” She replies, before taking Jayden’s hand and dragging him through.
Instantly, they’re met with a comfortable warmth, a creamy kind of smell, and a low buzz of conversation. There’s no smell to the paint, which is impressive. She’s pretty sure they must use low emission paint, and take the paintings somewhere else to dry, which is incredibly thoughtful, and also how they skirt by food safety guidelines. It must also mean that the painters are incredibly talented, to be able to adapt their skillset to use low emission paint, so she’s incredibly optimistic as to how the paintings will turn out. She scans the room momentarily, and… wow. It’s breathtaking, in an entirely different way than how a museum is breathtaking. It’s like she’s stepped into a lived in front room, or a starving artist’s studio flat that they’re still managing to pump life into, and it’s beautiful. There’s art all over the walls, in contrasting colours and styles, like someone’s just bought whatever they can get their hands on in an attempt to fill, to give everything a place, rather than pick and choose based on what fits. It’s incredibly eclectic, and it works. She can see children’s drawings on the wall, too, with a small metal plaque above them that reads ‘The Early Works of Our Staff’, which she finds incredibly endearing. The staff themselves are like walking paintings, too, all of them looking to be from different walks of life, different worlds, with bright dyed hair or neutral bantu knots and fiddly bones or wide curves, bags under eyes or piercings or tattoos, everyone looks so full, with an incompleteness that simultaneously completes the place. And the guests look happy, incredibly so. As she peers over the artist closest to them’s shoulders, she realises that they’re facing a blank canvas, so she turns to Jayden, smiling.
“Jayden, if we’re quick to sit down, that artist might draw us.” She whispers excitedly.
“All in good time, gorgeous, all in good time.” He winks, hovering at the host’s station.
The host slowly approaches the station once more, and they’re clearly host for a good reason. With big hair and a wide smile, Jackie can already tell that they have the right kind of commanding personality needed. Plus, reading their name tag, they’re called Jazz, which is probably the coolest host name you could ever have. Jackie’s quickly proven right, when Jazz begins to speak. “Hello, I’m Jazz, I’ll be your host for the night… now, currently we only accept reservations, so it’d be great if you could either give me the name for your reservation, or hop onto our website and book one now, okay?”
“Yeah, alright.” Jayden responds. “The name for the reservation is Jayden, Jayden Rosario.”
“Right, let me pull that up for you… oh!” They squeal, and they seem to make quite a grandiose effort to smooth their face out, returning it to normal. “Alright, so, we have you seated in the table in front of that window over there, table twelve, I’ll take you over there now, and there’ll be someone over to take your order soon, alright?”
They sit down, and Jackie instantly notices that the furniture’s slightly mismatched, clearly picked up at charity shops and refurbished. It’s horribly endearing, and only makes her like the restaurant more. She grabs the drinks menu, and that’s awfully pretty, too. It has the background of William Morris wallpaper, which, while likely used because it’s free to use commercially, still fits the restaurant perfectly. There’s your obvious array of drinks, though they offer cranberry juice alongside your regular apple and orange, which is nice. The real beauties are in the cocktails section. Half of them look like drinks from other realms, in fantastical colours with the most gorgeous presentation, from the pictures presented next to them on the menu. Some of them are niche references, most of which she gets and all of which she appreciates. And, better yet, most of them have a mocktail equivalent. It’s like this place was conjured up specifically to appeal to her, and if it was, it’s bloody well working. She peruses for a little longer, before shutting it and looking at Jayden, who is… patting his pocket? Weird, but not too unusual. He’s probably forgotten where he put his keys.
“Right, I think I might get the Dammit Janet, I fucking love Rocky Horror, and you’re driving, and I don’t have work, which means I can up my alcohol intake. A lot.” She announces.
“Not too much, though.” He warns carefully. She looks at him, puzzled, and he clears his throat, like he’s been caught in the act of something. “Just because we’re being painted!”
“Fair enough. I’ll have this one, and then that’ll be it for me.” She sighs, longly. “Chuck us the starters menu, though. If I can’t indulge in the drink, I’ll have to eat my way to happiness…”
He chuckles to himself, and throws it to her. “There’s some good stuff on there. I was thinking we could get the French onion soup with the croutons, if you want?”
She scans the menu, and while there’s some interesting stuff there, she’s pretty sure the French onion soup is somewhat famous. “Yeah, that sounds good. Either that, or the fig tartines, but I know they’ll be really moreish and I don’t want to stuff myself with starters.”
“Wise choice. And, also, I’m not sure I know what a tartine actually is.” He laughs.
She peers at the image next to it. “I’m pretty sure it’s a fancy word for a dinky sandwich.”
“The more you know.” He shrugs, looking at her, and God, the way he looks at her. She wishes that she could capture that look and put it in a locket, to keep with her forever.
The waitress comes over, and they order. Drinks come over, and they start to be sipped at, and they’re rich and warming and so fucking pleasant that she’d come here again even if it weren’t for the novelty of the painting, which she’s almost forgotten about, actually. Then, their soup comes over, and it’s… perfect. It’s incredibly rich and flavourful and fucking delicious, better than she’s ever had it anywhere else. She’d have had it as a main, had she realised quite what it was like. There’s been such obvious care put into the dish, effort and time and something akin to love, and she can taste it as the croutons melt on her tongue. Jayden has similar compliments, and seemingly forgoes his usual gym diet, what with the amount of cheese he’s lapping up. And then, it’s gone, and it’s time for mains. She chooses the Dijon mac and cheese, despite how much she’s bullied by Jayden for getting mac and cheese at a regionally famous restaurant, and he goes for the mushroom risotto. He still doesn’t call himself a vegetarian, but he never eats meat around her, and it’s incredibly sweet. It’s not like she’d ever say anything to him about it if he did, but he knows it’s something she cares about, so he doesn’t. More care than bloody Corrie, who on multiple occasions has ordered a box of twenty chicken nuggets and wolfed them down in front of her, as she drunkenly picked at lukewarm chips and stared at them longingly.
When they finish their respective plates, Jackie is scanning the dessert menu curiously, eyes fixating on the panettone pudding, while something anxious begins to appear on Jayden’s face as he checks his watch. As she looks up, bright eyed to announce her choice of pudding, she recognises a remarkably serious look on his face. He reaches for her hand over the table. “Gorgeous, we might have to skip pudding. I’ve mistimed something.”
She squeezes his hand softly. “Mistimed what? I thought this was all we were doing tonight.”
A mischievous kind of look reappears on his face. “Well, I can’t tell you that, can I now?”
She quirks up an eyebrow. “Alright, then. Lead the way, I suppose.”
And that he does. When their waitress comes back over, he asks for the bill, and pays it without flinching, which is a talent he acquired recently. When he first settled into the new paycheck, there was a constant twitch in his eye whenever they went to a nice restaurant or looked at fancy clothes, mind always focused on the price tag rather than what they were actually getting. However, he’s trained himself out of it, and he’s much happier for it, especially because money hasn’t been a worry for them for a long time, which makes it entirely pointless to worry about it. Then, when they go to leave, he’s stopped by the hostess, who begins to whisper to him hushedly. Oh, yeah, the painting. They must be talking about the prints, though she’s not sure why that requires secrecy. The hostess gestures to an artist and, curiously, Jackie follows their hand. She only catches a glimpse, but what she sees is… breathtaking. She can make out her own figure, from the angle she’s at, sitting in the foreground, and it’s like… it’s like there’s light, exuding from her. It’s a simple impression of her, with generally cartoonish features, though it is recognisably her, but she just… she can’t get over that glow. She can’t get over the idea that an artist saw the two of them, and drew them as a light source in the centre of the room. She can barely tear her eyes away, but Jayden is tugging on her wrist, so, resolutely, she follows after.
— — — — — — —
Jayden whistles, up and by the kettle again, pouring himself a coffee, and her a kashmiri pink chai. She knows that it’s not the same out of a packet, okay? Doesn’t make it any less tasty in its own right. “Fucking hell. I had no idea I was that obvious.”
“Yeah, but it’s alright, because I was even more oblivious.” She grins.
“I am a lucky man, to have a fiance so ignorant…” He sighs, dreamily. “You put far more detail into describing the food than just about anything else. Is this your way of telling me you want to go again?” He asks, turning his back to finish off their drinks.
“Yes.” She says, instantly. “You robbed me of my panettone pudding.”
“Okay, listen, in my defence, I forgot that kids have bedtimes.” He replies, beginning to carefully carry their drinks over to the dining table, and looking at her expectantly.
“What?” She asks, waiting to take the mug from him as he switches to holding the hot bit so she can hold the handle and avoid burning herself for the second time this morning.
“You can’t just leave the story there.” He tells her, handing her the cup and sitting down.
She looks at him amusedly, eyes sparkling as she takes a sip. “I suppose I can’t.”
— — — — — — —
As Jayden focuses on the road in front of him, and the directions shouted out by the SatNav on his phone, Jackie watches the streets they go past, and she feels a glimmer of recognition light in her chest. She knows these roads. She knows this route. And subconsciously, she’s pretty sure she knows where they’re going. However, night is beginning to set upon the city, and her recognition is dimmed by it, so she’s forced to try and understand memories that she just can’t quite make out. And then, all of those memories are put into focus when they pull up outside an ice rink. Not any old ice rink. Her ice rink. The ice rink her parents used to take the kids to skate on during the winter season, always encouraging them to get back up when they fell over. The ice rink her and her team used to play in, forming relationships with one another that they thought would last them forever. The ice rink that she smashed her jaw into fourteen separate pieces on. The ice rink that she hasn’t gone to since. Jayden has both figured out where that ice rink is, and taken her to it for a regular old date night, both of which are oddly purposeful things to do, only she just can’t decipher the purpose behind them. However, he’s Jayden, and she’s Jackie, so she’s sure that everything will come together in the end. She trusts him.
The parking lot is crammed with cars, which is strange, for this time of night, but she doesn’t think much of it. There might be some event going on. Maybe that’s why they’re here, actually. Despite all of this, however, she still looks at Jayden as they pull in, and asks: “Jayden, what’re we doing at my old ice rink?”
“Do you trust me?” He asks, parking and turning off the engine, glancing at her.
“Yes.” It’s a thoughtless reply. Instinctive. Because she does. Because she trusts him more than she’s ever trusted anyone. Because she’d trust him with anything.
“Then stop asking questions, and follow me.” He tells her, and the words would probably be frightening coming from anyone else, but his lips keep trying to stretch themselves into a smile, and he’s looking at her like she’s the most beautiful thing in the world.
And so, she does. They unbuckle their seatbelts, get out, lock the car. The sign glows against the dusky sky, and she tries not to think about how much light pollution that’s probably causing. Jayden looks like he’s anticipating something, almost bracing himself, and she can’t even begin to imagine what. So she just clasps her hand around his bicep, and follows him into the rink. The first thing she notices, when she steps inside, is that the place is shrouded in darkness. Which is weird to say the least, considering the amount of cars she saw in the car park. But Jayden doesn’t seem to be phased in the slightest, simply moving forward, scanning around for something. Then, he seems to find it, and sits down on a bench, patting the space next to him. Cautiously, she takes it, careful to not speak so as to not interrupt his train of thought, and sees that he’s holding something. A shoe. No, more than a shoe. A skate. And he’s holding it out to her. To wear, of course, she realises. And so, she takes off her own boots, undoing them briskly, and stretches out her slender ankle. She realises that she was probably supposed to put the skates on herself a little too late, however Jayden is nonplussed. He drops her leg in his lap, and pushes her foot down into the skate, until it’s all the way in, before tying it tightly enough that it won’t fall off, but still loose enough for it to be comfortable. He repeats the second one, and then pulls a second pair out of nowhere, and repeats the process on himself.
Finally, he stands up, surprisingly steady, and looks at her. “Care to join me, m’lady?”
As confused as she is, she takes his hand, and smiles. “I care very much indeed.”
She’s still steady in her skates, despite it having been something like ten years since she’s donned them, and he’s quite steady in his own rights, considering that she’s never seen him skate before. She hangs onto his arm again, an odd kind of anticipant fear building up in her, remembering blood dashed out on the ice and a pain in her face and shouting and screaming all around her, swallowing her up. He glances at her, making sure that she’s alright, and when he’s certain she is, he leads her out onto the ice. The lights are off, until they aren’t, individual spotlights following each of them, making her feel like something of an ice dancer, even though she only ever played hockey. It’s quite cool, actually. And, more notably, it’s only the two of them on the ice. So many cars outside, and yet it’s only the two of them, wrapped up in one another. Maybe there are other people here. Maybe she just hasn’t noticed them, because he’s all she can look at, all she can think, all she can feel. He’s like a heartbeat against her body, and she can feel him everywhere, like he’s a part of her. Like he is her, and she’s him, and they’re one, and they’re moving as one, and he blocks out the scary thoughts of the ice from her head and fills it solely with him.
Gaining courage, she lets go of him and begins to skate slightly further, delightedly realising that the spotlight splits from Jayden’s and follows her. “Are the spotlights motion sensored?”
She spins, and sees him scratch his head. “Uh, I’m not sure. Maybe?”
She slows down her skating, realising that her skates are tearing roughly through the ice because she never really learnt to be careful, and spins again, looking around as she does. “Jayden, what’re we actually doing here?” She asks.
When her gaze lands on him once more, she stops. She stops, because he’s on one knee and he’s holding a ring box and he’s looking at her like… like she’s something. Like she’s a shooting star, and he’s dedicated his life to astronomy. Like he’s ready and willing to dedicate his life to her. “I wanted to make this place mean something else.”
“Jayden.” She says, softly, pressing a hand over her mouth, unable to look away.
“Let me finish.” He says, carefully. “I didn’t really know what I wanted to say, with this speech. I knew I had to say something, and I had about six different versions of it in my notes app, but God, Jackie, how can it matter what I say to you now? How can it matter what I tell you now, when I love you more with every day that passes? How am I supposed to sum up decades of blind adoration for you that I’ve not even experienced yet? What more is there to ask you than ‘will you marry me?’”
She feels her heart swell, and all of a sudden, they’re not in an ice rink. They’re not anywhere at all. They’re together, and that’s all she needs. That’s all she’ll ever need, and much more than she’ll ever want. The answer comes naturally to her. “Yes. Oh, God, yes.”
Wordlessly, he slips the ring onto her finger, and it’s beautiful, dazzling in the spotlight. Almost reminiscent of her mother’s wedding ring, only distinctly different. Distinctly hers, with the most beautiful crystalline flower that perfectly matches the nails he picked out for her what feels like decades ago. And then, she hears the shuttering of a camera, and music begins to be played. When it does, Jayden straightens himself out, and they wrap themselves close to one another, swaying along to a choir of voices coming from the stands, voices that she begins to recognise as the room is illuminated. Some lower (she hears Corrie’s underneath everyone else’s), some higher (Adeline’s ghostly voice soaring high above her fellows’), some surprisingly loud (Elia belting it out like he’s chanting at a football match), and some perfectly eloquent (Tommy’s voice as clear as an arrow shooting through the sky, a wedding bell ringing out). All of them perfect. All of them loved by her, all of them loved by Jayden. But the voices that seal everything together, the voices that make her love him all the more, are the voices that aren’t quite voices, AAC’s singing out in time with everyone else. Students of hers, included after lifetimes of being ignored. Allowed to sing in the choir, alongside everyone else.
And so, the two of them begin to sing along.
“Your faith was strong, but you needed proof,
You saw her bathing on the roof,
Her beauty, and the moonlight, overthrew you.
She tied you to her kitchen chair,
She broke your throne and she cut your hair,
And from your lips she drew the hallelujah.”