Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

November 2, 2014

She said, "I'd never look at him that way," and I said, "I know."

The first time they met was my fault, and they were both half-drunk. His eyes are careen like fire engines over her body as he stands too close to her in order to hear her soft voice.

I'm in the corner when they begin to laugh at each other's bad jokes. Later in bed when I'm trying to strangle my breath into being calmer he kisses my cheek and says, "she's cool" and I say, "I know."

I think nothing of the way he searches for her in me until he kisses me distractedly in the middle of helping me with homework: question number six, and asks where she's been. I shrug slightly and pop a skittle into my mouth, asking idly if he thinks I should lose weight. He disagrees, I close my eyes and picture the way her hipbones would look under the curve of his hands.

I tell him offhand I am afraid, I am not beautiful enough to be with him and he says, "you shouldn't worry about that" but this time I do not say, "I know."

They revolve around each other like slowly colliding planets and I am their forgotten moon. His face lights up whenever he gets a message from her as if he'd only been waiting his whole life for it and when I lay my head on his chest I can feel her pounding away at his ribs. Playing the melody of the way she touches him when I am not watching. 

She can't stop talking about him without looking suddenly guilty, darting her eyes to me. She says, "it's not like that, we are just friends," and I say, "I know."

I begin to think that maybe saying nothing about it would force them to stop seeing each other late at night when they feel like I'm sleeping and maybe if I tell him I can taste her on his skin that he would at least wash up after being with her and god, what I wouldn't do to control fate.

They are pulled towards each other like they are twin galaxies; in the late of the night she sends me a text that just says, "I'm sorry."

But how can I respond when I'm crying at how hard I can feel him grabbing at her skin and hear the sweet nothings he whispers to her that used to be the only words he could say that would persuade me to sleep with him.

I call him and ask if I can see him and all he says is that he's busy but how can he go through life not finishing things he started in the first place?

"You won the breakup," I tell him. "Congratulations." 

Chapter Text

January 2, 2013

"Excuse me, miss? I can think of one reason why you shouldn't go out with me."

As coffee burned my tongue, I turn to the man standing beside my table and just stare at him. Holy shit, Blanchard, he's talking to you! Don't be a shit. I laugh and stare him up and down, assessing him.

"Are you talking to me?"

"Yes I am," he says. "And yes, that was me hitting on you."

"That was terrible," I say.

"Was it? You haven't stopped smiling yet."

I try hard to stifle the grin; I try really hard, but in the end the corners of my lips quirk up in appreciation of how beautiful the man before me really is; How pleasing to the eyes, and clearly the other women here agree.

"May I sit?"

"No my boyfriend is sitting there," I tell him, he sits anyway.

"Now he is," he says, smiling. "I've been watching you for over an hour now, and you haven't stopped reading that trashy travel book nor do you have a male accompanying you today. Would going out with me be so bad?"

"I don't know, you tell me, you said there was a reason why I wouldn't want to anyway." I snap.

The grin holding his cheeks up does not fall but only broadens further. "I was going to say that if you went out with me, it would break the heart of every other man in this world, and we wouldn't wanna go breaking anyone's heart now would we?"

"I think I'd be breaking your heart by declining," I tell him. He laughs, and what a sound it is.

His laugh breaks through the parts of me I didn't know I had, it crushes my ribs against the sides of me and fills the empty space they leave behind, I am pulled towards him like a bad game of tug-of-war and he is the master of the game.

"I think you're right, so maybe you do have to go out with me now," he smiles.

"I don't even know your name," I say, I squint at him, daring him to say something back.

"Good, so we're already off to the start of a perfect romance," he tells me. My mouth pops open a crack to let out a breath I've been holding my whole life before I found him, or until he found me.

"It's 2013. If I don't know your name, you're not taking me anywhere."

"Dan Howell, and yours is Grazia Blanchard, we both graduated from Denefield two years ago and now we both attend the same university, you have almost every class I have and I've wanted to take you out since I first laid my eyes on you, the first breath you breathed around me was the first time I've ever wanted to grab a girl as hard as I could and kiss her as if to make our breaths one. Go out with me," he says.

"Okay," I cautiously tell him. He smiles and takes a fry from my plate. "Watch it," I warn. "I can still say no."

"Yes but you haven't," he says, clicking his tongue. "I'll see you tonight."

"Wait, what time? What should I wear?"

"Don't let it be like that, show up how you want. See you at midnight," he smiles.

"Wait, midnight? That's too late — Where are you going? Get back here!"

And he's gone.

November 26, 2014

He told me that I was reason that he had to drink before he slipped into his sheets. He told me that he can't shake the taste of me, no matter who he touches, he says no one's skin is sweeter than mine, and he can't shake the hollowness of my cheeks and how beautiful I am at three in the morning and I say, "oh."

As class begins, I watch as he moves a piece of hair away from his face so carefully he's afraid it would break if he was less gentle. He turns around to look around at me, and I notice the look of terror that passes him when he sees me, as if I have given him reason to fear me, as if looking at me is the hardest thing he's ever had to do. As if he regrets ever laying one eye on me.

I smile at him, offering him the best apology I can, the only apology I can offer. He nods and smiles back, and she turns around to see me and smiles too. My smile fades too quickly at the way her lips curve and smooth out against each others, and fuck God for never giving me everything she has, she turns back around.

"You know, some of the best writers come from odd backgrounds." My professor has entered the room and I grow silent.

Some people give their opinions, but the only thing I can think of is how Dan Howell would like me to burn up so I can stop haunting him, he said I was the ring of bruises around her neck, and that no matter how hard he fucks her, he cannot fill the emptiness that has been eating his brain ever since I declared him the winner of the breakup, I laugh to myself and think, "stop cheating then."

"What's the oddest thing you've ever done in a relationship?" Professor Amari asks, and because of my current situation, I am forced to laugh.

Eyes on me in the center of the room, an eyebrow in front of me raises in question, Professor Amari is looking at me, I know he was expecting something from me, considering I always bring the fire around here.

"Anything you'd like to share with the class, Grazia?"

"I once bet that I would be the winner of the breakup in my relationship," I said, and because saying it out loud made it sound funny, I laughed. "I mean what the fuck? I swore I was going to win."

And because it's Professor Amari, he doesn't say a word when I let my swear word fly. "And how did that go?"

"I lost," I say, and look directly at Dan, he's looking at me, jaw locked. "He won though, ask him."

It gets quiet in the room, and eyes turn towards Dan as if waiting for the big story behind the breakup, but it's really only one thing to tell — we broke up because I couldn't keep my mouth shut and he couldn't keep his hands to himself.

Coughing, Dan's eyes graze around the room and he turns his chair all the way around to look at me and laughs. "Maybe you won, Grazia."

"Don't be so honest, Dan. You definitely won," I say, I smile at him.

Professor Amari clears his throat and that is our signal to stop, and I seem to be able to do that so easily. "What does falling in love feel like?"

"A mistake," Dan answers, some nod and some laugh along with him. I stand.

"I need to be excused," I say.

"Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine," I lie perfectly.

"Class starts soon, are you sure you don't want to stick it out?"

"I'm sure," I say. I begin packing my bag back up, and start down the stairs, past Dan and Catherine Bacardi, the only person I've truly grown to hate.

I stop to take a look at him. "How can it be a mistake that when I kiss you I can taste the next eighty years of my life? Or how after you've kissed me just saying your name feels like pronouncing fireworks? How is it a mistake that you make me feel like I've been born again from ashes, or that you are like getting all of the right tiles in scrabble and you are fucking to music so loud our ears ring, and you are two in the morning tickle fights and drunken adventures I don't regret, you are a weather alert in my lungs, and I don't regret you at all. How is it a mistake that when I wake up in the morning I want to reach over and push my hands through your hair like pushing my hands through the sand? How is it a mistake that," I stop to breathe through the tears I couldn't bite back.

 I look at Professor Amari. "I'm sorry."

Chapter Text

February 2, 2013

Drawing my hand back, I almost stopped breathing as he stirred in his sleep. I was drawing my own constellations on his back, I draw one star to represent all the ways I love him:

1.      For the way he had touched me last night.

2.      For the way his back dips in and out like a wave that's never going to crash onto the shore.

3.      Because he is beautiful.

4.      Because he thinks that I am beautiful.

I watch his breathing pattern turn from completely calm to irrational and nerve-wracking, and I don't question the way my hands immediately reach out for him and pull him in as if I have any idea what the fuck I'm doing.

I forgot to add to the list of things I loved about him was the way my sheets gripped his back like honey after a nightmare.

I love him the way my bones love to crack after a long day and I love him the way a mother loves the name she chooses for her child.

"Hello gorgeous." he whispers, and immediately I am watching the pulse of his neck and the way his pupils are adding to the sunlight, and I watch his face as realization slams into him that he had yet again fallen asleep in my bed.

"Hello gorgeous yourself." I say, and brush hair from his forehead.

"I really enjoyed last night, you were perfect." he tells me, laughing.

I roll my eyes. I watch as he stands but I am not cold, I am warming from the way his body is shifting, and immediately I am heated and in need of him.

"I can't remember how good you were," I say, and it's a suggestion, he knows it.

He raises an eyebrow and laughs. "I could jog your memory, should you wish, Grazia."

Lust fills me from places I didn't know I had, and I want him to crawl into my mouth and bang my brain into oblivion.

He's got a narrow v of his hipbones like an arrow directing traffic and I can't stop staring at the way his whole body looks and god, I want to run my hands over him as if to make him realize what he does to me and the way I've been looking at life recently.

I am a hungry wolf and he is my prey. I want to lose myself in the light of his lips and cast shadows made from sin.

I pull him into me and kiss him like he's been underwater his whole life and I am his air.

With his hand, he weds my thighs, carefully saying I do with the way he pushes them apart and slowly devours me with one lick. I can't decide if I want to spread his body like butter on my sheets or kiss him in beautiful cities and fuck, I'm in love.

I want our ribs to interlock like fingers, and I want the valley of his hips to rise to the mountains of my pelvis. I do not hesitate to scream out as he tucks his fingers safely inside of me, and out, and in and I climax without warning.

If only he knew what crosses my mind when he is across my body. With a beautiful laugh and a body so killer I'm not sure if I'm laid in my bed or my grave, he kisses me with so much fever I can feel my next life.

"I am so in love with you, you're mine." he whispers.

It's suddenly a law: I am his.

I laugh out in excitement, or was that a scream from the way his hand had crept downtown again? "As long as you're mine, I'm yours."

I lean into him as if I am the moon and I am about to hit him, he is earth and he is on fire, immediately undressing me everywhere. "Fuck me. " I beg and he wastes no time.

November 28, 2014

I had been finding small pieces of myself all over and I didn't have enough hands to pick them all up. I've never missed someone as much as I miss him and if I could have it my way I'd erase the memory of him on top of her, and erase the fact that he needed someone else to satisfy him because I never could. I thought it might have been a trick of the light and I didn't see her cherry-fucking- stained lips around my boyfriends dick.

"Grazia," I turn to see him waving me down. "Wait," he calls. He grabs underneath of my arm and pulls me towards him, and even though I'd love to rip his throat out, I feel the weight of the world on the outside of my body pushing me toward him. "Where are you going?" he is out of breath. "They said you were like, leaving." he whispers.

"I'm going home." I tell him.

"But you said you were spending Thanksgiving on campus this year," he furrows his eyebrows as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Things change," I say. "But you knew that already."

"Are you going to hate me forever, Grazia? Come on, it's Thanksgiving and you're leaving? When are you going? I'll come with you." he offers.

I look him up and down and scoff. "Nothing here I'm thankful for this year. I don't think that'd be wise of you, or me."

He drops his hand from me as if I've burnt him and steps away from me. "But you," he stutters. "I don't understand Grazia." he says.

"You broke my heart." I answer.

"So you're leaving?"

"Who am I going to eat with this year if I stay?"

"Me." He shrugs. "We eat together every year, Grazia, why would this year be different?"

"Holy shit," I whisper, and I just look at him, as if he's the hardest equation to solve and I am the dumbest person in the world. "You really don't get it do you? Did you think this whole thing was a joke or something? We broke up." I explain.

"I know, but-" I stop him.

"You don't even get it, things are over between us. You fucked me over my own grave and I could smell myself rotting and every time I see you, or see her, or see both of you, I feel wrong."

"Are you staying or going?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to stay," he says.

"Then I'm going."

"So if I said I did want you to go?"

"I don't know, you didn't say that."

"But if I did?"

"But you didn't."

He settles into his defeat the way he settled into warm bathes with me once upon a time. I watch as regret floods through him, and guilt partners with that regret and suddenly he's a ball of something neither of us could recognize.

"So that's it? We broke up?"

"We broke up," I confirm.

"And I won?"

"You won," I tell him.

"Okay," he whispers.

"Okay."

Chapter Text

March 2, 2013

"I don't know what's more disappointing, that you didn't wake up feeling twenty-two today, or that I was waiting for you to do so." I laugh as I throw myself on the couch beside Dan.

He laughs too and shrugs. "Twenty-two, same as twenty-one but only a year after."

We look at each other as if to both confirm he said that, and then we laugh together like one of those movies where the character tells the other character something that neither think is true then they laugh, then; they're in love.

"You turning twenty-one could not be as calm as you turning twenty-two."

He shrugs again, but holds onto his smile. "It is with a heavy heart that I must confirm you're right." I roll my eyes but smile anyway.

"What did you say that girls name was again? Catherine?"

My mood decreases rapidly, but I smile and nod anyway, though I am disappointed that he'd bring her up now, here, with me around, asking me her name as if he had forgot it or something, but how could he have forgotten it when she had been whispering to him all night long like a mouse glued to a sticky trap?

"She's cool," he says, I shrug and nod. "Does she come around a lot?" he asks, I shrug again and he begins to twirl a lose piece of my hair. "I think she's cool."

"I guess," I mutter and shrug once again.

But nothing about Catherine Bacardi is cool or inviting except her legs, that always seem to be open for boys she thinks she cares about for the night. I have picked her up from too many matchstick beds with undone sheets and spilled secrets, and god damn it I never knew how to tell her that she was looking for peace in the rough heat of stranger's beds.

"She told me you two have been friends for awhile." he ignites the topic again.

"I met her a few years back." I say, nonchalantly.

"How come you didn't introduce us sooner?" he asks, I just look at him.

I can't bring myself to say, well because we've only been dating for two months, besides I was afraid you might fall in love with her first and then I was afraid she'd leave you in the morning and I thought you to be too beautiful for that treatment. I smile and shrug again.

"Can't change the past." I laugh. He smiles and stands.

"Let's go get lost in each other." he suggests, before I can argue, and I am swooped up and away into the bedroom.

April 2, 2013

The first time Daniel Howell went down on me, I held my breath and thought he was joking when he had asked yet I thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever said to me because he asked and didn't pressure when I told him I was afraid he'd be able to see and feel everything.

He only waited for me to lay down and spread my legs and I thought that was easy because I'd been doing the same thing every night for the past three months with him and every time it just got better and better and fuck if I could hold him forever I think they'd call me the sky and him the clouds because of the way the sky was holding the clouds and god, what I would do to marry him tomorrow.

When the time came, I extended my legs across the bed like I was reaching for both the North and the South and neither were equipped to help me through this, and I wasn't afraid of him, I was afraid of myself messing this up for both of us.

I said, "if you look inside of me, all the way up, you will be able to see my broken bits and how much of a mess I am." but instead of searching for my broken parts, he ate from the outside to the inside where he had planted himself inside of me like my favorite flower and suddenly my ribs were not so broken and I won't forget the way I taste on his lips and the way he enjoyed it as much as I did.

The way he says my name is the way a wick holds a fire, I am undone by him, I'm a candle in the late hours of a long night and our clothes should stay on the floor like a puddle of all of my wax and create a treasure map of the places we've been, to the places we have yet to go like from the kitchen to the office to the bedroom and he takes his instruction from my flame and uses his tongue to slowly destroy me.

He says he will handle me as gentle as a sparrow and he would never kiss me without meaning it.

And sometimes I let him fuck me or sometimes I don't and expect that he'd love me that night instead but then I think of how he could grab my hips and bang me but instead he holds onto me like I am peace and he can no longer be quiet and when he slides into me I am home.

May 2, 2014

"Why were you alone with her?"

He looks at me like I've got three heads and none of them are making any sense, as if he did nothing wrong and I laugh at the typical man he was being in front of me. "Are you going to answer me?"

"We were hanging out," he says.

"Hanging out or making out?" I ask and he steps back like I've wounded him.

"Hanging out." he whispers.

"You'll fall in love with her eventually," I say with a shrug of my shoulders. "And I'll pretend like I didn't see it coming."

"It's not like that, Grazia," Dan says. I nod.

"It's never like that at first," I retort. "Then, it happens when no one's watching or there to stop it."

"I love you," he whispers, shaking his head to himself and furrowing his eyebrows. "Why are you doing this Grazia? She's a good girl."

"Catherine is far from a good girl, if you want a good girl, you had one waiting for you all night right here. Are you coming or going?"

"I'd like to be coming," Dan says, and even though my heart's in knots, so is my stomach. Still, desire finds its way to the center like it's been there all along and maybe it has.

"So would I," I say, and I watch as he inches towards me. "But not before you get a shower, you smell like her, and your lips are red and puffy and your breath reeks of alcohol," I say, he looks defeated.

I make my way towards the stairs. "You can sleep in my bed when you decide that's where you want to be."

And I go to sleep.

December 4, 2014

My Mother was cocky, and I had been cleaning her mess up my whole life, so when I finally needed her help with my own mess, she couldn't help me.

"Stop tattooing yourself with boys you only just met." She said and I almost spit right in her face.

I had nowhere to go but back to campus and I was really angry at my mother, and my whole life I had coached myself not to be but fuck, when was she going to start being my mum? I think I've been broken my whole life with her, because my dad told me he can see a light coming through me when I go to see him but then maybe it's my mum's headlights making sure I say nothing stupid, so I only laugh when I want to agree.

I think my dad loves Dan for me, so I won't break another heart if it's not necessary.

"How is that going with him? How is he, why didn't he join you this year?" My father asks me.

I smile before I speak. "He's good, Dad. I'm good, things are good."

"That's — good," he laughs. "I like him, he's a good one." he tells me. I like him too, Dad.

After I am finished visiting my dad, I head back to campus. I am afraid that this place is taking my soul and making it rotten, but I go back anyway because when I was seventeen I told my Mom, "I want a life, not a degree," and she replied, "they're the same thing."

But this is from the woman who thinks a sixteen year old should drink; she says the best secret to a cocktail is drinking enough to think there is one. My Mother never cries and sometimes I wonder if that's genetic because sometimes I can taste salt on the back of my tongue.

"Are you coming or going?" Dan asks me as soon as I get into the hallway of my flat.

"I'm coming," I say, and I can hear the amount of tiredness behind my voice but how can anyone spend so much time with my parents and be mentally, emotionally and physically okay?

"Are you staying?" he asks.

"Do I have another option?" I reply with a question as I unlock the door to my apartment. "What are you doing out here anyway? How long have you been sitting out here?"

"Three days," he says as if it's no big deal.

"Three fucking days? Dan are you insane?" I exclaim.

He chuckles. "For you? Yes. Always."

"You could've gone inside," I tell him but he pretends not to hear.

"How was it?" he asks.

"My dad still thinks we're together and my mum still doesn't give a fuck. Don't like, ruin that for him, or anything though. He really wants us to work out."

"So do I, do you think since your dad loves me I have a better shot at apologizing?"

"My father doesn't have to love you, I do."

"Luckily for me you do." he says, smirking.

My mouth twists into a half grin. "What's in the bag?"

"Cheesecake," he says. "and a turkey."

"You made both?" I ask. He nods. "Are you coming or going?"

"Coming, hopefully." he says.

"Come in."

"My dad has this theory that when the Sun is a red giant, he might still be around to see it," I roll my eyes, eating a piece of cheesecake. This makes Dan laugh so hard he snorts, which in turn, makes me laugh.

"You seriously think that's funny? You should have come with to see his Christmas tree and the way we carried it out of Home Depot," I roll my eyes and laugh remembering how many times we dropped the damn thing.

Dan snickers and shakes his head. "I think you're forgetting I did it with him last year."

"He asked if you were coming to Christmas dinner this year, too."

Dan nods. "I'd love to."

"Do you think that's a good idea?"

He puts his fork down on his plate and looks at me. "I think it's a brilliant idea."

I just stare at him, and the way he had grown into a man's body in just a small year, and I look at the dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep. "You're beautiful, and I miss you every single night."

"Maybe tonight you don't have to." he whispers.

"If I let you stay, you have to sleep on the couch."

"I'll take it."

"Okay," I say.

"I love you," he says.

And I love him, too.

Chapter Text

November 28th, 2013

"If you wanted to parade someone around in front of your family you should have asked Catherine to tag along," I hiss as Dan pulls me aside from the rest of his family.

"What is your problem, Grazia?" he snaps, gripping my upper arm roughly.

"If you don't remove your hands from my arm I will scream this house down," I warn.

He releases my arm and shoves a hand through his hair, sighing audibly. "I just wanted to have a good Thanksgiving at my house and head over to your parents later, why are you acting like this in front of my family? What am I being punished for?"

I stare blankly at him before crossing my arms and clicking my tongue. "Why do you always leave me to hang out with Catherine? Why can't I ever come?" 

He just rolls his eyes. "I'm not doing this right now, not here." 

"This won't go away, so don't even think about silencing me," We begin walking back into the dining room. "I want to make a bet with you."

He just looks at me. "A bet? About what?"

"If we ever break up, I want there to be a winner of the breakup."

 His jaw locks and then he scoffs. "Figured you would talk about us breaking up." 

"Stop pouting, it's not as cute as you think it is," I roll my eyes. "It's just a fun bet, it could make the breakup - if it ever happens - fun for the both of us." 

He rolls his eyes. "Rules?" 

I smile. "The winner will have had to do something really shitty to the other person, that's the only way they can win, and the loser has to tell the winner they won."

He nods and laughs. "It's on." 

"Don't do anything shitty to me right now, Dan, my heart won't be able to handle it. At least not right now anyway."

"What makes you so sure I'm going to win?"

"Catherine," I say, shrugging, then walk back into the dining room of his parents house where I catch the stare of his Mother who quietly shakes her head at me, and I take it that she's heard my proposition, and suddenly I'm not so confident that my bet will make him more determined to treat me better, I think I've just given him a reason to fuck our relationship up.

My mother keeps saying how all Catholics are evil and how there is no God. She then goes on to tell Dan how I used to make up stories and then laughs instead of just telling him I was a liar.

My mother makes me terrified to be a parent because fuck, she's been the only role model of how to be a mother but I know that she is nothing to idolize and it scares me that one day I could turn out like her. 

I'm afraid I've swallowed the insults my mother handed me like birthday presents and that now they are bullets at the back of my throat on my tongue waiting to click into the chamber aimed at the forehead of my little girl. What if when she runs off on us, instead of saying 'you scared mummy, don't do that again' it comes out like when I was six and my mother grabbed me by my shoulders and shook me until I was dizzy, shouting 'what the fuck were you thinking?'

My father, however, was built like a sinking ship and has been my hero since I was conceived. Even with his six-year long battle with lung cancer, he is full of smiles. I am afraid that every time I leave him to go back to University, he will die alone and not in my mother's arms or even mine because of course mum stapled it to my head that you have to go to college.

My mother is a stereotype of boot-heel chronic anger and has stamped out every ember that used to burn inside of him. Sometimes he speaks about his past and how deep he used to free dive, and about the dreams he had to give up to make ends meet with my mother.

There was only one time I felt bad for my mother —but maybe it was pity — and it was only because I gave oral to Axel Ryder in the back of my ninth grade classroom after school and I felt so rebellious that I came home and told my mother I hated her. The way she cried afterward is still the soundtrack to most of my nightmares.

My father always smells divine and works way harder than he should and once I tried to make a card telling him how much he meant to me but he caught me and told me he could see how much he meant to my heart. And what he said crept up behind my teeth when my parents fought and I turned music up so loud I swore I could've actually tasted it.

I feel bad for my father, you know? Sometimes my mother wants him; and sometimes she doesn't. He used to sleep beside the woman, who is biologically my mother but stopped being the quick wit and sweet smile of my mother about fifteen years ago, and I love her because sometimes I still see the woman I used to know.

"Grazia, did you like the turkey this year?" My mum asks me.

I smile so tightly it hurts and nod. "Yes, mother, it was delicious. Did you make it?"

She rolls her eyes as if she's offended. "Don't be so judgmental Grazia, of course I made it, I always make it."

Wrong, so damn wrong. She hasn't made me a meal since I was four and she was still trying to learn how to be a mother. My father was the chef of the house, and my mother was the complainant that never liked anything he did.

"So Dan, tell me, what did Grazia do that caught your eye and made you choose her?" she asks him, and I feel him squirm uncomfortably beside me. 

Oh no, I am about to win the breakup. I feel guilt begin eating me from the inside out.

"I've been in love with Grazia since I was fifteen," he casually replies. "I've wanted her since I first laid my eyes on her. She's the most beautiful person in the world and there hasn't been a time that I have looked at her and been bored, Mrs. Blanchard." 

I look at him so hard my eyes tear because he is the only person I want to have beside me for the rest of my life. I cling to his arm like a vine.

She clears her throat and laughs. "That used to be me and her father," she chuckles. "now we hate each other."

"That won't be us," he confirms. "I'll always love her."

She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Give it time." 

And I agree, because in time, he probably will notice the things wrong with me the way my mum did when I was born and I will no longer be anything but a vine that clings to him too tightly and can do nothing but strangle him.

"Your father keeps calling, I need to get a new number," she rolls her eyes as she says it. "It was nice seeing the both of you."

Then she walks away leaving us on our own to walk away too, so we do.

My dad's house has arms on the sides and when we pull up outside it immediately embraces us. Dan and I say nothing about my mother, because I am too embarrassed and he is too sad for me. My dad smiles so big I am afraid his face will fall off.

"Hi dad," I say as I hug him.

"Welcome home, bud." he replies.

"It's good to be back," I smile. "Dad, you know Dan, from the summer party back in August." 

He nods and takes Dan's hand. "Nice to see you back here," my dad says, and immediately Dan is comfortable again.

"It's good to be back, sir," Dan insists.

"I'm assuming you already ate dinner at your mum's house." 

"We left room for your food dad, don't look so sad or you might break my heart," I say with a laugh, following him into the only house I want to be at in this moment to eat dinner and talk about music, cars, and everything I love about both of these men that everything a person could love.

December 24th, 2013

"We're he only people I know that leave buying a Christmas tree to the day before Christmas," I stress as my dad and Dan put their shoes on.

I stand beside my dad's new girlfriend as we both agree that we might as well not put a damn tree up or waste money on it now. But both men insist that it's important, so we allow them to run around to stores like mad-men and buy one.

Dan didn't even want to go home to his family this year; he only wanted to see my dad, which was odd to me because did he really enjoy my dad's company so much that his family wasn't important to him?

When they come home, stumbling through the front door with the fattest Christmas tree I've ever seen, I help them set it up by my father's fireplace. I stare at Dan who is breathless and my father who is cracking a joke about how he's got cancer and he's old but fine.

"This thing is huge." I exclaim.

"That's what she said." Dan jokes and I slap him but my dad strangely laughs.

December 21, 2014

Everyone is lonely on campus tonight because of how much snow is falling and how everyone is conveniently leaving each other's lives and I think if I knew how, I'd save all of their relationships.

I've never been so close to the snow before. We have a strange relationship, the snow and I. We have never liked each other much, but somehow I find myself admiring it from afar and I think the snow is most beautiful after the storm when the ground seems to be cracking in half and the snow is melted so far onto the ground it's in love.

I am disgusted by the way people are courting Christmas around here, and I was the same way last year when I saw more people in malls than in hospitals and I can't decide if sometimes it makes me happy or sad and god, I think the weather is living inside of me.

My phone starts ringing and my fingertips ice over because I can't think of the last time someone actually called me but maybe it's to talk about my Tweets about the monsters living inside of my head or maybe it's my friend calling instead of taking my "I'm fine" text as "I think I am losing my mind" and feels safer calling me instead of going right into a conversation about how fucking awesome her life is.

A part of me hopes it'll be Dan when I pick up the phone and maybe he'll apologize for running away in the middle of the night again so when I pick it up, I am let down with the robotic voice of "The F.B.I. reports a break in every day" and I laugh and agree because there is always someone breaking into my heart, my rib cage and my brain.  Someone is always breaking into me and it's usually either Dan or myself, shattering open my bones over and over again.

I walk towards the west wing of campus, and I am immediately on my way to my only friend's dorm room, where I will walk in on her painting her toe nails and humming a trashy pop song by a trashy pop artist with no taste of what love actually is because they've never even experienced it or care enough to.

"How long do you think I'll be heartbroken?" I ask her as I sit beside her on the bed.

She sighs and looks up at me. "You're heart can't actually break, Grazia, it's all in your head," she tells me, and I feel like I am being pushed fifty yards away from her.

"But it hurts in my chest." I respond. She just looks sad for me because at this point everyone could tell how sick I was of losing him.

"Do you like this color?" she asks me, I nod and shrug. She takes another look at her feet before taking it off. "I don't like it."

I nod again, but I can feel a thousand tiny men playing sad songs inside of my chest and I can feel my heart, their drum, beating away inside of me. I pick at the end of my sweater, waiting to find something wrong with it, but I find nothing.

"He slept at my apartment last night." I add. 

"So why the long face, Graz?" she questions. 

I shrug, but I know exactly why."He left in the middle of the night."

She puts her nail polish down and pulls me towards her. I can feel a half of me warm up by her affection and I think that some of my broken pieces found their way back together. I just watch as she stands and fixes her outfit.

"Did I come at a bad time?"

She laughs and nods."Philip and I are having dinner tonight,"  she rushes.  "Soon."

I nod and pick my bag up from her floor. "It was good seeing you. We don't do that anymore, we don't see each other."

"Aw," she says. "I will swing by and see you soon, Graz." 

"I'll let you go now, it really was good seeing you, Frannie." I say goodbye, she laughs.

"Haven't been called Frannie for months now, it was a blast to the past." I smile at her and make my way out of her dorm room, and when I walk home I am stopped twice by carolers and once by a man driving a truck.

When I get home I am approached by Catherine at my front door. "This is too familiar; your boyfriend - if that's what he is - was here last night like this too, was this planned?" I rhetorically ask as I push past her to unlock my door.

"Wait, Grazia, can we talk?" 

"There is nothing you have to say that would make me interested in talking to you so please just leave." I say harshly.

If there is any reason to be mad at the human being in front of me — it was for having the ability to love the man I love — even with how challenging it is. If there is one thing I don't blame her for though, it's having that human quality of having so many butterflies inside of her stomach that one day they turn into a bunch of knots that she's patiently waiting for him to untie.

"Please talk to me, I am so tired of you hating me." Catherine begs.

I unlock my door with a loud huff and turn to look at her. "What do you want to talk to me about? The time for talking was months ago, when you were fucking my boyfriend so loudly the panes in my walls were breaking. I can still smell you on my sheets; tell me what you have to say that could interest me even in the slightest?"

Her head hangs low. "I'm so sorry."

"You know, Catherine, I don't believe a single word that comes out of your goddamn mouth. Not one, and Dan is stupid if he believes anything you tell him as well. I just hope he's smart enough to not knock you up or something, we all know that would be a mistake."

"That's the thing," she cries. "He won't touch me, or look at me or talk to me at all."

I close my mouth and observe her, in a knitted sweater too big for her, her mascara stained cheeks are now sticking out to me, but I can't buy into her sadness, knowing it wouldn't be there in the morning.

"It would be a shock to me, a total surprise, if it didn't happen to me once upon a time, too. Karma's a bitch if you are, Catherine. Have a nice life." I snap and I almost slam the door on her face as she turns away but I have one more thing to say.

"And when you're fucking him at night, or laying beside him wishing he'd turn to look at you, I hope you feel the same way I did; when he cracked my heart into so many pieces I'm sure one of them punctured something inside of me. I loved him first, I loved him better, and he may be with you, but he will never unlove me, Catherine. Keep that in mind."

And I close the door.

December 22, 2014

I sit in class under the impression that I am a little older and wiser than I was last night. I feel a burden lifted from my shoulders and I think this is the part that I begin healing. 

Dan Howell walks in and that changes immediately. He smiles. Fuck, there goes my chance of ever healing from this.

Once everyone is seated, our professor comes in. He looks up at me and smiles. "Nice to have you back, Miss Blanchard. I was beginning to worry you wouldn't come back here," he says, unbuttoning the first button of his suit. "You've been the talk of the class." 

"Really? Well, I'm honored; I can't imagine why though." I retort sarcastically.

"I have a few ideas," he laughs. "Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins," he quotes and the class - including me - laugh. And it feels so natural I'm almost fooled.

"Any thoughts on that?" Professor Amari asks. I raise my hand, stupidly. He smiles. "Grazia?"

"Nabokov is obviously saying she is his sin and soul, the light of his life. She arouses him." I answer. He nods and continues to look around the classroom.

"You put it so lightly," Jaxon King scoffs and laughs. "The chick obviously makes his dick hard, he just wants a little action." 

I am not amused though, as is Professor Amari. 

"There's more to life than getting your rocks off, Jaxon," I fight the urge to roll my eyes.

"Name one thing, Grazia, that is better than having your dick sucked." he challenges.

I laugh. "I'd answer that question if I had a dick; and I bet I could give you a response that would silence you to tears. But, I was in fact blessed with the female genitalia; a vagina. Which are tons of fun to play with, yes, but I also enjoy being the light in someone's life, which is actually really more stimulating and beautiful than having a penis inside of me, I think you'll find that out later in life when your girlfriend - if you get one after your comment of course - refuses to go down on you until you show a little love. Now, I think you'll find that if you love a woman, she will in return offer you her body, which is pretty rewarding, if you ask me."

Chapter Text

November 2, 2014

I was blind to what Dan needed; I mean I had to be.

I wanted to pretend I didn't just see one of my friend's plump lips around my boyfriends' dick, but I did. And I want to pretend I didn't punch him in the face but I did, and my bruised knuckles were the proof of my anger towards both of them.

"You couldn't leave me this one, really Cath? I gave you every single guy I even thought I liked since I met you, and you couldn't spare me the one guy that I really even gave a fuck about?"

I remember vividly the cherry red smirk printed perfectly on her face and the registration shock of being found like this by Dan. I miss him because I made the mistake of thinking his bones were a good place to grow roots even though people are not gardens.

When I was younger, my great-grandmother told me that ghosts don't haunt houses; they haunt people, that if you feel empty and restless it's because your soul is out there wandering the streets with the person who is your true home. And I am beginning to think Dan is my true home.

He kissed me like he was the devil while keeping demons away, how could I not love him?

I clap sarcastically and both of their heads turn around to face me, Catherine runs her  perfectly manicured thumb  across her bottom lip and sticks it in her mouth. I want to rip her hair out, tear her  from  limb from limb, but I am paralyzed by the way Dan is staring at me, guilty.

That was never something I wanted; to be the clueless partner of the relationship that has to deal with all of the sadness once the relationship goes to hell, or have him look at me like that, like he did when I caught him being pleasured by someone other than myself.

All I could think of was the way Dan woul dn't  look me in the eyes, instead he paid attention to the body he had at his feet, the beautiful, toned, perfectly sculpted body of Catherine, and I kept thinking  how  this was my worst nightmare and he was the star of it.

"What now?" I ask ,  both of them look at each other  and shrug.

"Grazia," said Dan, who has yet to look me in the eye s.

"I asked you, no, I begged you not to do this, not with her . I  warned you and I begged you and you took that as a get-out-of-jail free card . D id you think I wouldn't be hurt because  of how I'm  used to the way she steals men from me like I 'm the earth  and she is the moon  who  everyone wants to look up and see?"

He shakes his head  and whispers . "I love you. "

"It shows," I  say, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"I just...the bet...you said," he murmurs, and then he rubs his eyes as if to wake up from a dream.

"Hate to be the one to break the news, Dan, but this is real life, no matter how many times you rub your god damn eyes you will continue to look up at the mess you've made . Ho w are you going to fix this? How are you going to clean this thing up?" I ask.

He doesn't look at me.

"I asked you a question," I snap   so loudly both of them look up at me.

"I don't know ."  he  mutters.

"You don't  know ? You did this, you must have thought of the possibility of being caught somewhere along the line, you dumb ass. How long have you been having your dick sucked by someone so disgusting?" I ask  and  Catherine starts to speak up but I silence her.

"I'm not talking to you," I shout . " I'm waiting," I say and  turn my head to face my cheating boyfriend.

" I'm just going to apologize and hope you can accept that," he says like this was no big deal.

I laugh. "This is low, even for you, Dan. I mean, you're a beautiful guy on the outside,  but  surely you could have cheated with someone at least half as decent as me ."

Dan just shakes his head.

I look at Catherine. "Since the little boy won't talk, why don't we have a talk? Woman to woman, you can handle that can't you, Cath? Surely you're grown with all of the men you've fucked."

"I can handle that," she says  with a smile and  stands, naked, in all of her glory  before reaching  behind me for a robe. "Let's talk ."

"How long have you been fucking my boyfriend?"

"Long enough," she  replies. " It's getting old now, you can have him back."

"Is this what you  want  Dan? At least having sex with you never gets old for me, you dickhead," I yell at him. "You deserve someone just like yourself, Catherine, and  Dan's  on his way trust me. I have nothing to do to you, I don't have to get revenge, Karma is a bitch, and she bites, hard. Yours is coming. I mean, it might have already came for you, look at yourself. I can see the way you've been grabbed at and used, you're nothing but a good fuck, maybe one day you'll change and be a better person, but I am tired of waiting around for that to happen."

"You," I say to Dan. "This, whatever this is, it's over."

"Wait," he calls out, standing and grabbing his clothes throwing them on carelessly as he followed me out of the apartment. "Grazia, wait, I love you, where are you going?"

"You don't understand," I cry. "And you never will, you are everywhere, you are my insides. Your bad driving is in the whorl of my fingerprint, your laugh is in my hollow cheeks; your eyes are in every mirror I see, that is love, Dan.  But p lease, you've done enough, just let me be."

He steps back like my words are holy water and he is the devil, he looks to the floor and nods. I leave.

The day has turned black to night and I lay in bed crying when a text comes to my phone from Catherine that only says, "I'm sorry" but I don't reply.

I only try calling him once and when he answers with a response and tells me he's too busy to talk or to see me, I say something I regret a second after I say it.

"You won the breakup," I tell him. "Congratulations."

December 25th, 2014

I've spent Christmas Day holding my Father's hand beside the hospital bed his nurse had put in the room after he could no longer make it up the stairs and to his bedroom sometime last month. I keep telling him my favorite parts of university and why I love English but all I can think about is how loose his grip on my hand is and how he's smiling like it hurts.

My mother storms in the house, with my dad's girlfriend hot on her tail, trying to keep her from him. I look up in alarm and so does my father, but all my mother can do is cry, she begins wailing and her heartbreak is audible.

"Oh my God," she whispers, throwing a hand to her face. "Are you in a lot of pain?" she asks.

My dad laughs and manages to elevate his shoulders into a shrug. "Nothing I can't handle," he lies.

"Oh God," my mum says again. "I'm sorry I came so late."

He waves a hand of dismissal at her but she doesn't stop there. "I'm sorry I left you and I'm sorry I told you I didn't love you because I do, I love you, I love you, I love you. I never stopped and I never will. I'm sorry it took me so long to be standing here apologizing but I love you and I promised till death do us part once upon a time," she cries.

I move aside as she flings herself towards my father and they embrace each other tightly. I leave the room and allow them to have their moment. I am surprised to find Dan sitting in the hallway leading towards the front door of my father's house. "This just gets better and better, first my mother makes an appearance and now you." I spat.

"This isn't about you, Grazia, your dad has done too much for me in my life for me to just not say goodbye."

"Nothing you ever did was about me, Dan."

"Don't do this here, Grazia, come on, seriously. We can talk this out some other time." he pleads.

I laugh at him. "Time, that's the problem, it's limited and you lose too much of it too soon. If you want to be like my parents, separated, but totally in love with each other and going to the grave without each other, fine, but that's your choice and you'll live with that, not me."

"I'm sorry, I just don't want to fight with you." he says.

I roll my eyes. "Save your apologies, they were never genuine anyway. My father is in the living room, if you want to see him."

He sighs and nods. "Thanks," he mutters, and then passes me.

My mother comes out of the room and looks at me, pale and crying. I roll my eyes at her, but hug her anyway. I hold her while she shakes violently in my arms, and I am reminded of the ways she depended on me as a child.

I leave her with my dad's girlfriend – whom my mother looks up and down at – and go into the living room where my dad's face has lit up with excitement that Dan had come to see him. They both look up at me as I enter.

"I was just telling Daniel about a trip I'm planning to go fishing soon," my dad says and it makes me pause for a second but then I smile at him.

"Gross dad." I say laughing.

"How have you been treating my little girl, kiddo? Have you been good to her?"

Dan shakes his head and turns to look me straight in the eye. "I've been a bad boyfriend to Grazia lately, but things will get better. I love your daughter, you know that. She knows that."

I listen to them talk some more about trips they plan on taking, that we all know won't be happening. Dan gives my dad a new watch and they joke about how he can barely even see to tell time and then Dan leaves.

"It was good seeing you, son. You should visit more often." my dad suggests. Dan nods in agreement, eyes glassy and on the verge of tears.

"I'll see you soon," Dan says. "Take care of yourself old man, goodbye."

I nod at Dan when he leaves the room, because I know I'll deal with him later. I sit beside my Dad and stare at him, his skin now wrinkly and tired, his hair white as snow. I picture his last breath in my head and imagine all of the things that are going to go through his head as he leaves us.

"I know you're unhappy there at your university, and I want you to know that the last thing I want is to die before I get to see you live. Get out of there kiddo, for me. I might have worked my whole life to get you into that college, but I worked longer to make sure you were happy, okay? I love you."

I smile, then I cry, then I smile again and it continues like that until my mum comes back in and sits beside me and we both hold onto my father's hand and now we are a family.

It took my father's life coming to a slow end for my mother to be pulled out of her fantasy world but it happened.

"This is how I pictured the end of my life, with my two favorite girls," my dad whispers, I cry again and grip onto his hand harder.

"I had a good life," he says, then he begins crying. "I didn't get to do everything I wanted, but I got to love, and that is enough for me. I am ready to go now, God can take me right now and I'd be okay with it because I got to live among two of the most beautiful people ever."

His speech began to slow after that, and that's when I knew it was really over for him, when his eyes slowly began to close and he no longer was looking at me. His grip on my hand loosens and I turn to look at my mother.

"I love you, Dad."

My father died officially some time into the night, mum and I both began crying when all we could hear was his oxygen tank and no longer him breathing. But my mother and I didn't move a muscle to do anything; we sat beside my father and talked to him even if he was no longer listening. When it was time to let him go, I covered my Father with his favorite blanket.

I walk outside to my car, to grab my phone which I didn't care about until now and see Dan sitting outside. I roll my eyes and take a seat beside him and suddenly, I feel like a lovesick teenager that's on a relationship-break from her boyfriend whom she loves dearly, but then Dan turns to me with tears running down his face.

"Why are you crying?" I ask him, genuinely concerned.

"Because I don't like where my life is going."

I wanted to lean over and tell him the truth; that I had not slept in six days and that there is a tidal wave inside of me, pulling back to leave the beach empty, gathering at the back of my brain, waiting to crash down on everything I have built.

"I am a good smiler," I tell him, he smiles and shrugs. "But I am also good at smiling like I mean it, and the scary thing is that you know me best and you still bought it."

And that's when the wave hit for real, that's when I went from a slippery slope to a straight drop, because my mind started screeching "see, he doesn't care, does he?" but I just kept smiling because he is driving around fancy limousines and flying fancy airplane rides and I am in a factory where they tear apart my insides and whatever they spare of me cannot even be called a human, and that only means I hold him high and he puts me low, so low.

"I love you though, Grazia, I do," he starts off and pulls out a cigarette pack and puts one in his mouth. I stare at him in disgust. I didn't even know he started smoking until now.

"You're going to smoke that outside of the house of my now deceased father who died due to cancer and that death stick right now? What else are you picking up from Catherine these days, any STD's? She's known to have a lot of those." I hiss.

The cigarette falls from his lips, limp. "STD's? I used a — uh, condom, with Catherine," he says. "And I'm sure you'll be pleased to know I am not learning how to smoke from her, either. I just like having it there, in between my lips."

I shake my head as if shaking off my thoughts like they were grass stuck in my hair and place my head between my hands and blow out a tough sigh.

"So now you can't even say condom and Catherine in the same sentence without stuttering like a third grader being asked to read a note they were caught passing? The cigarette thing doesn't fit you either, you should lose the cig," He just looks at me though, so I take it from his lips and step on it.

"That was expensive," he whispers, but he's not bothered by it at all. Instead, he's smiling at me. "I half expected you to come stumbling out here crying, so I waited around."

"And the other part of you?"

"I expected you to come out here okay like you are right now, so I almost left."

"Okay? Is that what I am right now?" I ask, mostly to myself. "I guess that's accurate, I guess I've accepted my father's illness since he was diagnosed."

He nods. "Merry Christmas by the way," he adds. "It shouldn't have been like this, but I am glad I ended up beside you tonight anyway."

"Yeah," I say. "How's the cig thing anyway? You like it?"

He laughs. "It's very fulfilling; it makes me feel black, like my soul."

"Oh baby, you're soul is anything but black," I mock him. "Maybe a dark gray, but not black."

We share a laugh. "I am honored that you, Grazia Blanchard, are still willing to give me, Dan 'Gray-But-Not-Black-Souled' Howell a compliment such as the one you've given me. Please, tell me how you do it."

"It's a blessing and a curse," I retort. "Dan 'Gray-But-Not-Black-Souled' Howell, huh? I like that."

"Marry me," he says out of the blue.

I nearly choke as I turn to stare at him. "Excuse me?"

"Marry me," he says slower. "Tonight."

"Are you mental?"

"In hindsight, probably. But I am mostly insane for you, Grazia, and I'd like to share my name, my house, my life, my children and my entire future with you. I want the rest of my life to be selfish because you're a part of it, and I want you all to myself, so marry me, right now." he breathes out.

"You don't even have a ring," I say, baffled by his sudden act. "And you don't even have my trust."

"Trust is just an old folk-tale. People use trust as a crutch for things, don't look at me like that either, Grazia, I told you I've loved you ages ago,"

I hug myself. "You always do this to me."

"Do what?" he asks exasperated.

"Put me in these positions to pick my head or my heart and neither of them are ever clear. They're always full and you know that," I explain.

"Is that a no?" he asks.

"It's a hell no," I clarify.

He chuckles. "It was worth a try."

"Was it?" I ask. He chuckles again.

"It was always worth it with you, love," he tells me, then he stands and looks over me. "Your mother is by the door waiting for you." He glances down at me once more. "So it's a real no?"

"It's a real no,"

He laughs. "That hurts, but I understand. You're the only girl I know that would turn me down like that." He leans down to my ear and whispers. lAnd I fucking love it." Chills run down my spine and up my legs straight to my core.

He walks away, not looking back at me. "I'll never stop trying, one of these days you're gonna marry me, Blanchard, and I'm a patient man."

And he's gone.

Dan had cried the entire way to the bridge that night when he left Grazia sitting on the step, he cried for her father, a man he had grown to love dearly, he cried for his mistakes, he cried for Grazia, and he had cried because he wanted to sit on that step with her for the rest of his life and play with her hair.

He had not seen it coming, not slowly, but all at once it seemed, a truck had lost it's direction and ended up in Dan's lane. He would have moved, he really would have, but he didn't, because when the impact of a truck like that hit him, his world went black, but his world went black loving Grazia Blanchard, and nothing, or no one else. And he was okay with that, and with his foot on the gas pedal, everything was okay now.

He was still alive; he knew he had to be.

He could hear the police yelling precautions at each other, he could hear them perfectly in fine detail, but seeing them was a different thing. He knew he had screwed up, but he welcomed the feeling with grace because by now it was familiar to him. He wondered which people in his life would cry, and who would come for him, but then he was lifted off the ground and onto a bed, and he was gone again.

Grazia tossed and turned that night, and when her phone rang she knew it was Dan, she knew something had happened to him.

"Come quick," and she didn't hesitate to leave in that moment. She drove miles before she could breathe and every two seconds she was checking the time — something she never seemed to get enough of these days.

2:02 the clock read.

She had wondered what Dan had done, and for a split second it made her bitter, because she knew that he knew she'd come running at lightning speed. She kept wondering if he was dead, because she had felt his mother's hand reach out for something to hold onto and she could hear the sound of her ring falling to the floor and she thought it must have been loud because she could hear it from seven miles away.

She didn't think it'd be as bad as his mother had sounded, but when she got there and his family was huddled together, she was afraid she'd never get to tell Dan her real answer was yes and that she had their families Christmas card picked out already and that she wanted to marry him as much as he wanted to breathe and eat and sleep and, she walks over to his family and clears her throat.

His mother lunges for her, gripping onto her for dear life, but Grazia is unable to do anything except stand there in confusion. "Where is he?"

"Oh God, Grazia, they're trying, they trying to fix him but you didn't see him, it was so bad." his mother cried.

Grazia just stood in shock starring at his mother, afraid that she'd cry again if she opened her mouth. She licked her lips and shook her head, losing two people in her life in such a short time period was not appealing to her.

"Were you with him tonight? Did you see him?" Jackie asks.

Grazia only nods. "He came to say goodbye to my father," Grazia tells her. She licks her lips and stares at her, then places a loving hand on Grazias shoulder.

"Goodbye?" she asks.

"He's gone, my Dad. He died tonight." Grazia explains. This only makes it worse for Jackie, who throws herself at Grazia again, and cries, rubbing her back and whispering "I'm sorry" continuously.

Grazia knows better than to worry, and yet she still did. She later sat on the wall, and pictured this was a dream she could control, and she pictured the doctor coming to tell her Dan was asking for her, and she would run into his room and he'd be sitting on the bed with a crooked smile and gloating about how he survived and that no one should have been worried in the first place.

But that dream was terribly wrong, because that night the doctor came out to ask who wanted to say their final goodbye in case the emergency surgery backfired and in case Dan, the only guy she ever loved, didn't make it through the night.

Grazia sobbed uncontrollably into Dan's shoulder, which looked frail and pale, weak and lifeless. She kept pushing his hair out of his face, which was bruised and battered, and kissing him in all the places she was allowed.

She didn't speak to him, more importantly, she didn't have to. He knew she loved him, even through her rejection of his proposal.

And then a million monitors went off like a million red fire trucks and a million nurses ran in like a million ants and she was pushed out.

Chapter Text

We fuck like synonyms.

We do not touch each other gently, we fuck like two words that are mirrors of each other, or magnets of the same polarity and by being held against each other, we begin to implode. I do not grip him gently, I rip at his back as if I am trying to pull his skin back and step inside of him, I wrap my legs around his body and stretch my body towards his so our chests are touching.

He groans in response, and I say nothing because we fuck like birds fly, we fuck as if we are empty vessels trying to find the stars in each other's soul so we actually feel warm for once.

But we don't touch gently.

He attacks my neck like I am a feast and he hasn't eaten for decades. I want to press him into me so hard he becomes a part of me. He thrusts his whole body forward, he pushes in and out of me, at a quickening pace, and both of us are whimpering like this is the only thing in the world we have been missing. I cry out as I reach my climax, and he falls into suit behind me, his legs shaking, his body twitching, I watch him in amazement.

I want to drop to my knees and suck him dry, I want to hold him to my mouth without mercy, he falls on top of me and breathes heavily and I welcome the extra weight with pleasure. I run my fingers over the already reddening marks on his back. He kisses from my throat to my breasts. I look down at him in the same second he looks up at me.

He is urban exploration, he runs his hands all over my body as if each piece is hanging in a museum, he holds me tight and I can't stop him from nibbling on my skin. He traces patterns on my ribs like invisible cartography, and he can't stop treating me like holy ground.

"I want to tattoo your name on the inside of my eyes," he whispers, kissing the same spot three times.

I say, "I'd rather you whisper it with your lips between my thighs."

December 31, 2014

We have slept in hospital chairs built for being uncomfortable and Jackie has yet to stop pounding her foot into the floor, she holds Dan's hand so tightly, I'm sure it would wake him up. Every time I think she is going to fall asleep, she doesn't, and every time I am sure Dan is about to wake up, he doesn't.

My Mum has begged me to come home and see her, also to be with her to ring in the New Year but nothing seems more appealing to me than sitting in this hospital room beside the only guy I have ever been in love with and waiting for him to wake up, whether that takes weeks, months, years or the rest of my life.

I knew Dan was going to be a lot to take on from the way he always smelled so god damn delicious and that must have rewired my nervous system because something about his oversized shirts and the way driving relaxed him sent shivers down my spine.

I fell for him like he was black ice and I was an eigteen-wheeler on a dark night. I look over at him and visually capture the bruises and bumps, the lip cut, the eighteen stitches in his forehead and the ugly dark bruise on his chin, forever keeping that in my memory and forever remembering that I was here for this, during his weakest moment, to make sure that when he got through this, he knew how much I loved him.

"Grazia, would you be a doll and step out with Mrs. Howell? We have to change Mr. Howell's clothes."

I almost laugh at her, nothing I haven't seen already, but I keep my mouth shut and nod anyway, following Jackie out of the room, blushing at the fact that I had been daydreaming about fucking her son just minutes ago.

We walk silently, together towards the cafeteria, where I have learned all of the staff's names and the food they serve every day. I settle on a nice burger, and Jackie settles on some salad, still not being able to hold anything down, though I'm sure she's full from how many nerves she's eaten in the past six days.

"He's going to get through this, you know? My son's strong," she says, wiping the corners of her mouth with a napkin. I just look at her and nod.

"Of course," I say, smiling.

"Your mum keeps calling me crying about your dad," she changes the subject.

"She's heartbroken," I reply with a nod. "But all of us are. You don't have to deal with her if you don't want to, I will."

She rolls her eyes playfully. "I am happy to have contact with the outside world."

"I want nothing more than to stay right here, in this hospital, with your son, for the rest of my life, if I have to," I say.

She just stares at me adoringly. "He needs you in his life,"

"He cheated on me," I confront her.

"I know he did," she sighs and nods. "And I would never tell you to let something like that go. But do you think you'll ever forgive him? He's a good guy, Grazia, despite the stupid things he's done, to you, to me, to the world. I have nothing but love for my son, and I know you feel the same,"

"I've already forgiven him, Jackie."

She smiles at me. We eat the rest of our meal in silence, but it's comfortable. At the last moment, in walks a rattled Franchesca. She has a red nose and puffy red spots under her eyes, an indication of her crying.

I just look at her and she just cries harder when she sees me. "Oh, Grazia," she flings herself towards me and holds me in her arms. Jackie smiles lightly and excuses herself from the big love fest.

"Franchesca what is going on?" I ask.

"Don't call me Franchesca, call me Frannie, please," she begs.

"Frannie, what is wrong?"

"Oh, Grazia, I'm so sorry," she hugs me tighter, "I am such a bad person, I stopped caring about other people a long time ago, and I'm sorry it took me this long to apologize for being such a shitty friend to you. I am so sorry it took me this long to come to your comfort about your dad and now Dan."

I hug her, and think about all of the times I was there for Frannie and all of the times she didn't return the favor. But in spite of it all, never had she once tried to get in the way of Dan and I, she was always a good friend with my feelings, always there for me until she met her boyfriend.

"We all get a little lost, Franz," I whisper. "Welcome back, glad you could navigate your way here." I say.

She laughs and sniffles. "Grazia, I hope you don't hate me."

"If I hated you I wouldn't have you crushing all of my bones right now,"

She laughs and wipes her eyes. "Good point. How are you?"

"I'm okay," I smile at her. "I just feel a little empty, especially when someone says something my dad used to say, or the nurse comes in to take care of Dan, that's when it's the worst. You never get to get over the heartbreak of losing a parent."

"Do you think this is the best environment for you right now? I mean, here, in a hospital? What is going on with Dan, How is he? I came as soon as I heard. No one would tell me exactly what was going on and I couldn't find you on campus," she rushes.

I shrug. "I belong here, with Dan; I couldn't imagine being anywhere else right now. He's sleeping."

It's what I've been telling everyone, my mum, my friends, myself. I've convinced them that he's just sleeping and he will wake up from his nap any minute now. She smiles and wraps an arm around me.

"At least he's okay and alive, has he told you what happened yet?"

I freeze in place. "What is it? Did I say something wrong?" she asks.

"No, it's not you. It's me, or it's Dan. He hasn't said anything to me," I explain, she sighs.

"He's still mad at you for breaking up with him?"

"Not exactly. Dan's, um — he's, well, he's in an induced coma."

"Oh my god," Her hand flies to her mouth and tears pour out of her eyes. "It's that bad?"

"They said it's only temporary and he should wake up, but they said he should have been active or at least awake two days ago." I begin crying as well. Franchesca nods, wiping my eyes with her own fingers as I cry into her, because she is the only person I trust with everything.

"Oh Grazia, I'm so sorry," she exclaims. "I should have come sooner, should have done something bigger than just show up uninvited, crying, begging you to take me back as a friend,"

"It's okay, you're here now, and you're — staying?" I ask. She nods frantically.

"I'm staying right here with you," she reassures me.

I smile and hug her again, and then take a look at her unusual outfit, where her heels and beautifully fitted dresses once took up a place, was replaced baggy sweatpants and no make-up.

"I know I look like a crack-head, Grazia, don't rub it in," she says rolling her eyes.

I laugh at her and stand up. "Come on crack-head, let's go see how my guy's doing."

She stands with me, smirking. "I knew this would happen, I just did."

I roll my eyes. "I have no idea what you're going on about," I tell her as we take each floor by stairs, catching up slowly, with the things we have missed out on. I tell her it was Catherine who took Dan from me, she tells me she knows because of the way Catherine would eye him up at every party we attended. I tell her Dan proposed to me and she sighs dreamily and convinces me I should have said yes.

As we enter Dan's room, I freeze in place; standing over an awake and alert Dan is a crying Catherine, holding his hand.

"What are you doing here?" I snap.

She just stands there, holding Dan's hand. "I came to see how Dan was." He suddenly lets go of her hand, and sits fully up on his bed, he pulls the sheets off and swings his legs over the edge, as if getting up to go near me.

"Grazia, I thought you'd never come," he whispers, his voice hoarse and dry.

"I've been here the whole time, Dan, I was just getting something to eat," I tell him.

He looks at Catherine, who looks guilty among other things. "You said Grazia refused to come see me," he says, his eyes now slits, looking at her accusingly.

She rocks from left to right and shrugs, laughing it off. "I thought she did, my mistake."

"Get out," Dan hisses. "All of you get out."

I open my mouth, but close it again like a fish. I turn to follow a confused Franchesca out of the room but Dan stops me. "Not you, Graz, you stay."

I stand by the door as Catherine exits, and before she leaves, I grab her arm.

"I will always, always mean more to everyone, than you ever will, you'd do yourself some good by remembering that," I hiss at her, she rushes out of the room, clearly embarrassed. I look over at an amused Dan and roll my eyes.

"How long have you been holding that in?" he asks. I shrug.

"That's the meanest thing I've ever said to her but I think I deserved to say that."

He nods. "I agree."

I look around the room awkwardly before making myself comfortable on the chair by the window, where it's now raining. I say nothing for awhile, I just listen to the sound of him breathing, of me breathing, and it's comfortable.

"How long have I been out?" he breaks the silence.

"Six days," I answer.

"That's not that bad." 

I can't tell if he's being serious or not. So I look at him incredulously and laugh sarcastically. "No, not at all, I've just had this ache in my chest for six days, but it's no big deal."

He comes to realization and sighs. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean it like that, I just meant that it could have been worse, you know?"

"Whatever," I answer him with elevated shoulders.

"Come closer, please, you're too far," he begs.

I stand and sit at the end of his hospital bed. "You're pale," I point out.

He laughs. "I'm always pale."

"No, you're sickly pale," I roll my eyes.

"I'm sick, doc, fix me," he moans, I laugh and slap his leg.

"Well patient of mine," I play along. "you're going to need lots of rest."

"I think I need lots of kisses," he suggests. "And sex."

I roll my eyes once more. "That's all you think about."

"Is it?"

"It's a proven fact all men think of sex every five seconds," I tell him. "Not that I blame you, look at me."

"Oh trust me, I am," he says, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

"You killed me," I tell him, he sighs. "God, you're so dumb. Running off like that and nearly killing yourself," I tell him, then I bite my lip and sigh.

Running a hand through my hair, I shrug and decide to ask him the million dollar question, "Did you do this on purpose? Did you — you know, try and take your own life?"

He squints, clearly confused. "What? Is that what you... is that what everyone thinks?"

"Is it?" I ask. He opens and closes his mouth, and I sigh.

"I wanted to do something reckless, yes. But I didn't want to die, Grazia. The truck swerved into my lane. But if I would have died that night, it would have been for you."

I feel my first tear run down my face so fast it was like a switch went on and immediately my face was a flood. I wipe my tears away viciously and cross my arms across my chest, standing from the bed to look at him from the other side room and maintain distance.

"You think that's supposed to make me feel better? It makes it worse, if possible. Do you know what I would have done if you would have — if you would..." I stop mid-sentence and shake my head. "And your mum? Oh god, your poor mother. Did you think about anyone else other than me?"

"No, never." he answers almost immediately.

"Lie," I say just as quick. "Catherine is proof of that. I never once laid my hands on another guy, I never once even considered cheating," I tell him. "I thought you were happy with me."

"I was, I am, you're the only person I am happy with," he starts off. "But you made the bet and she kept telling me how you were in high school and I just... caved in."

"You just...gave in, and what? I was supposed to just forgive that, Dan? How many times did you just give in to Catherine; less than twenty or more than ten?" I question.

He flinches. "Not long at all, it only happened twice."

"Twice is too many. Hell, once is too many. It shouldn't have happened once, now look at what you've sacrificed for her." I inch closer to him.

"I know it is, and I'll never stop being sorry for it, Grazia. But you need to understand that I love you, I've loved you since high school," he pleads. "I need you to forgive me, Grazia, I need you to let it go."

"Let it go? Where is it going to go, Dan? Things don't just disappear," I hiss.

He sighs and I can visibly see it pains him to do so. "I know, Grazia, but how hard can I fight for you? How long can I beg you to forgive me? I mean, I've tried everything, I've apologized, I've asked you to marry me; you turned me down, you pushed me away."

"You're treating marriage like some kind of bogus apology that will trap me to you forever, and that's not what marriage is about Dan, should know that." I start. "You've tried apologizing? You tried everything? Are you sure about that? How about trying not to continuously seeing that girl after she destroyed us? How about not parading her around right in front of me? Not doing those things could have helped, too. And then you said falling in love is a mistake,"

"And I was wrong, falling in love with you was the best thing that ever happened to me," he responds immediately. "I had no one else, and you didn't want to talk."

"So she was second best?"

"To you, always," he says.

I just looked at him for a second, almost feeling guilty because he's so banged up and bruised and I'm forcing him to justify every mistake he's made ever when I, myself, made mistakes in our relationship just as much as him.

"I never should have made that bet," I start, he interrupts me. "Yeah, you know how competitive I am, Graz." he says. I roll my eyes.

"Hey ugly, you could have said no," I remind him. He laughs.

"I'm ugly now?" he asks.

"Hideous," I answer. "The ugliest person I've ever seen, actually."

He snorts. "Well I'm glad that someone as ugly as I am got the chance to be with someone of your beauty, Grazia,"

I laugh and fall on his bed. "You're so dumb, but I love you anyway."

"Even though I'm ugly?" he asks.

I laugh again. "Even though you're ugly."

"Am I forgiven?"

"Hm, I don't know, you have quite a few offenses, Mr. Howell," I start. "You're first one is agreeing to my dumb bet — you know I've never been smart with making quick decisions. Second offense is cheating on me, third, winning the bet you asshole, fourth is recklessly driving and I mean, the list just goes on," I murmur, smirking as I list everything. He rolls his eyes and stretches his legs out beneath me.

"Okay miss perfect; let's list your offenses shall we?"

"We shall not," I say as I jump off his bed quickly making a run for the door.

"Not so fast," he catches my hand. "First offense, making the bet, that was highly dangerous. Second, never letting me explain myself. Third, not accepting my proposal and Fourth," he sniffs the air around us, "not taking a shower in what smells like days."

I slap him and feign anger, it just makes him laugh and pull me close to him. "None of those are as bad as yours you twat."

"I don't know, the no-shower thing is kind of serious," he says. I roll my eyes.

"I'm clean!" I exclaim.

He laughs. "Is that what you call it?"

"Shut up," I eye him. "So, what was Catherine doing here?"

"No idea," he huffs heavily. "All I remember is waking up and her being here, she was crying and she had a pretty decent grip on my hand. She kept saying how you didn't care and that you weren't here, that you haven't been here the entire time."

"I was here the entire time, Dan."

He rolls his eyes. "I didn't say I believed her, Grazia."

"Just sayin'," I say smiling. "I'm glad you kicked her out."

He laughs and shrugs. "I'm glad what she said wasn't true." Then he asks the question that destroys the elephant in the room. "How's your mum doing with your father's death?"

I shrug and pick at the chipping polish on my nails. "Fine."

"You haven't seen her have you?" he let's a sigh fall past his lips. I shake my head no. "Have you talked to her?"

"Yes," I reply. "Some days she's okay, some not so much. She likes talking to your mum about it, I try to avoid it, you know?"

He nods. "Grazia, are you ever going to forgive me?"

I look at him. "I forgave you already; I've just been waiting for this talk."

"You're a tease, always have been, always will be," he says.

I laugh. "I'm a tease? How so? For not giving into you the second you came running back to me you jerk?"

"That's exactly why."

"Go to sleep, dumbass," I say.

He laughs. "I've had enough sleep," he tells me. "I'd love to see my mum."

"Well I'm going to find your poor mother, she's been a wreck since Christmas," I get up from the bed. "It's New Year's eve." I remind him.

"I'm glad we fixed things before the New Year, I know you're not into believing in that new year, new beginnings thing but I mean, at least we fixed things," he mumbles on.

"New Year, new beginnings sounds good to me." I say, before leaving the room.

I go to the waiting room where Jackie has settled herself into a chair and is content reading a magazine; I smile at her, my most relieved, tired smile and nod.

"You're son has requested you," I say, and she only smiles.

"Five," they all shout in sync.

"Four," they say, Dan's grip on Grazia's hand tightens, as they await the New Year. Their palms pressed together like they were holding their future between their fingertips. Grazia is not looking at him, but she can feel his gaze on her, as she smiles.

"Three," Grazia shouts the loudest, he's sure she's just woken up the entire North wing of the hospital.

"Two," he says with her this time. He looks around the room: to his father who is holding his sibling, tickling him while they count down to the New Year and to Grazia's mother who has made herself comfortable beside his mother, and they are too counting down, to new beginnings.

Dan's gaze lingers to Franchesca who has asked her six-month long boyfriend to join her, she has made herself comfortable by Grazia who he finally leaves his gaze on. "One," he says, the chills go from the very top of him to the very bottom as Grazia latches her lips to his as if he is the answers to every puzzle she had been trying to decode.

Both of them smile as they pull away and whisper, Happy New Year, the young twosome are passed around to everyone who all say the same thing and kiss both of their cheeks. But Dan can't help but watch Grazia with every move she makes.

"New Year, new beginnings remember?" she whispers into his ear, as if he is the only one to know any of her secrets. "Will you, please, be my boyfriend again?" she asks him.

He laughs. "I'm supposed to ask you, Grazia."

"Fine," she states. "Yes, Dan, I'll be your boyfriend."

"Smart ass," he snorts. "If you're my boyfriend then I am definitely, one-hundred percent your girlfriend," he adds.

She throws her head back in laughter. "Our relationships always been a little backwards anyway."

And that is what you call a perfect start to a brand New Year.

Chapter Text

January 10th, 2015

"Come on Dan, get up and get dressed, the longer you wait the more this hospital room costs, I don't think your dad's that generous," I say impatiently.

"He better be," he snaps. "I need help, I am wounded here, Grazia, completely defenseless against these bumps and bruises," he says.

 I roll my eyes and huff playfully, before walking over to him and helping him into his shirt. "I've never met someone that is so dramatic, Dan Howell. Seriously, you over-exaggerate everything," 

"It's why you love me, is it not?" he smiles.

"Who says I love you?" I ask, smirking at him. 

"Don't even try it, Grazia, you talk in your sleep." he replies, smirking right back and my mouth falls open.

"What? No, no way. I don't talk in my sleep." I defend myself.

"Oh you do, and it's the funniest thing," he laughs. "You also snore." I stop my hands on his legs, before continuing to help him with his pants.

"And what do I...I don't know, you know, say, when I talk in my sleep?" I curiously ask. 

"Don't try to act nonchalant about it, love," he winks at me and laughs. "It's your god given talent, lord knows it's the only talent you have." 

"Yeah? Well you can suck your own dick next time, asshole."

He chuckles. "I'm sorry; I take that back. Wait, Grazia where are you going? Come on, you know I'm just kidding," he calls after me. I throw up the middle finger before going to the waiting room where his family has planted themselves.

"Is he ready?" Jackie asks. I nod.

"He's in rare form though, so prepare yourself." I tell her before taking a seat beside Dan's father who seems more invested in his laptop than anything else. I look over his shoulder in pure curiosity but jump back when he speaks.

"I'm working on my next case, if you were wondering," he says chuckling, and it reminds me so much of Dan, I just look at him.

"I was just looking for...you know, like, the time." I respond but it comes out as more of a question than a statement. 

"It's 11:30," he nods. "Curiosity killed the cat, Miss Blanchard," he chuckles lightly.

"Don't cats have like, nine lives or something? Did curiosity really kill the cat, or did curiosity give the cat what it wanted?"

He turns to look at me. "Hm, good observation, but yes, curiosity really killed the cat; I'd learn a little bit more of my own business and a lot less of others if I were you, Grazia."

I just stare at him. "And I'd learn more about my son than my clients, but that's just another one of my many observations, Mr. Howell," I snap. I stand to go back to Dan's room, but turn to look at his father one last time. "I'm the fucking cat and I'm still here, Sir."

He smiles. "Even when I tried my hardest for you not to be. You're a tough young girl, Grazia."

I smirk at him. "You can look all you want, I won't suck your dick." I tell him

His mouth hangs open in shock. "And I'm not looking for you to go down on me either."

"Close your mouth, it's really unattractive on you, Sir." I say before exiting the waiting room.

I take Dan back to my apartment which is currently filled with a bunch of our closest friends, who have all took it upon themselves to give him a warm welcome back to campus. I help him into the apartment along with Jackie and his father, who looks at my apartment up and down in disgust.

"Surprise!" everyone jumps out and shouts simultaneously. I smile and Dan just turns to look at me with amusement.

"Oddly enough, I don't take this as a surprise. I knew this was coming, Grazia," he laughs. "You all tried though."

"Oh no, this was all your friends Howell, blame them." I tell him before setting his bags on the floor.

He takes off in the direction of his friends and immediately it's almost like he's never left, he's never cheated, he's never gotten into an accident, and everything feels right. That is until Dan's father slithers his hand onto my back, and leans into my ear.

"Let's talk about earlier please," he whispers. 

"Talk." I tell him, keeping my eyes on Dan.

"In private, Grazia." he suggests. I look up at him, and Dan looks at us in the same moment.

I step away from him. "I'd rather stay on neutral ground, where everyone can be witnesses to the shit you try to pull, I'm not as naive as Amanda, you know. You won't mess this up for me, too."

He smiles and nods. "I would just like to talk, Grazia, that's all." 

I look at Dan, who looks as confused as I feel, before nodding and following his father into the hallway outside of my apartment.

"When my son is finished with school, he will be working at my law firm as a successful lawyer, what are you going to be doing? Still living here, in this cheap apartment building, surely living off of my son's paychecks?" I stand there immobile, shocked.

"Excuse me? My career path happens to be none of your business, and Dan doesn't even want to be a lawyer at your law firm, hell, no one does! You can't burn down love so easily, you know. People aren't your toys to outgrow. Why can your son not be happy? Even if it's just for now." I ask him.

He straightens his suit and smiles at me, I see Dan in him, in his smile, in his posture, I can only imagine what growing up in this man's house was like. Don't eat sweets, don't talk back, don't do anything that I don't find respectable, you have to have this career because I do. I want to throw up. I can only imagine Dan, my Dan, as a child, suffering from the fear of living his own life.

"My son was not raised with trash, he will not lay down with trash or settle down with trash." he answers me. 

"Do you hear yourself? Do you actually think about what you're saying? You have a lot of money, and that, I promise, is the only thing that sets you apart from me," I throw my hands in the air crazily. "Your son is in love with me, and you know something, I don't think you know what love is, it's a foreign language to you, because you don't love your wife, you don't love your son, hell, do you even love yourself?"

He coughs to air the awkwardness around us before crossing his arms. "You're right, I have a lot of money, and how much of that money is it going to take to get you to stop seeing my son?"

"I don't want your money, I have what I need, and that's your son's love, which is more than you'll ever have," I tell him. "I'm going back inside to be with my man. Show yourself out, you know the way."

I go inside and close the door behind me; Dan is standing by the entrance of my apartment, looking fifty shades of confused. I smile at him, link my arm in his and don't mutter a word about his disgusting father, because I have him, and at the end of the day that is what matters to me.

"What was that all about?" he asks.

"Nothing important," I tell him. He stops me, grabbing my arm. 

I turn to look at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What's wrong?"

He sighs and brushes his hand across his face. "What did you have to talk about with my Dad in private Grazia?"

I freeze."What are you asking, Dan?"

"Are you sleeping with my Dad, Grazia?" he asks, straightforward and honest. 

"How dare you?" My mouth hangs open in speechlessness. "I wouldn't even dream of placing one single finger on your disgrace of a father, I don't even like sharing my air with him. I was talking to your Father who was trying to pay me off to leave your ass. Now let go of my arm." 

He releases me and sighs."I'm sorry Grazia, you know what happened before and I just—" I cut him off.

"I am not Amanda, and I wouldn't dare sleep with any man, let alone your horrible father, behind your back, you need to take a step back and rethink these accusations, Dan. Think of how much I loathe your Father, that human being means nothing to me, I've tried being nice to him for you. Look at where that's got me," I say, before turning away from him and going to socialize with our friends.

It was somewhere around midnight, I was admiring Dan, and how he played music like I breathe, and I think if there was no beauty in the world it would be because it was all in the way his fingertips grazed the keys like an extension of his body.

And I'd pay good money just to hear the way he swears slightly under his breath when he fucks something up, I'd watch him play for hours if he let me because I've had sex with him in shower stalls and under thousand-count sheets but it wasn't until I heard him play that I felt somebody hold me.

The best thing for a lover to have is passion and hard work and he is without a doubt the most graceful creature to have ever existed. He is my one.

He stops playing and bows drunkenly to the small crowd of our small group of friends that has stayed this long. I walk every last one of them out before cleaning up small amounts of the large mess I know I'd be paying for tomorrow. I hold onto Dan tightly when he comes to sit by me and lean on him.

"I don't think you should be consuming so much alcohol this early after you've gotten out of the hospital," I advise him. 

"Maybe I could reconsider if you let me consume you." he says while biting my ear and kissing my neck.

I laugh and shove him off of me. "Alright Romeo, let's go."

"To art thou bedroom, my beloved Juliet," He laughs and I help him stand from the couch. "Let down your hair," he whispers, playing with my hair.

"Wrong fairytale, Dan." I roll my eyes as I place him on the bed. He smirks at me when I help him out of his clothes, not forgetting to be gentle as I go around his cuts. He holds his arms out wide and smiles.

"Come and get all of this lovin' baby," he winks, I laugh at his impersonation but throw myself at him anyways.

I fall victim to his sloppy kisses as Dan's hands make patterns on my back as if he's trying to design his very own puzzle. I let my head fall back as we fix our rhythm to fix each other. I push up and down as he slides in and out, my mouth hangs open, no sounds coming out because he is touching me in my favorite way.

I kiss his intoxicated lips and let him crawl all over my body. I watch as he finds comfort between my legs, we move so in sync it's almost hard to believe. If we were a song, we'd be number one on billboard, our harmony was impeccable, he makes love to me like I am the apocalypse and he is dying just to live.

He moans softly into my ear, begging me for a release, I just stare down at him, hair disheveled, chest heaving heavily and eyes closed in pleasure. I run my hands over his chest, feeling the softness of the skin there, I lean down and kiss every inch of his abdomen, which makes him wild. His pelvis pushes forward to meet my thrusts, but he refuses to move at a slow pace, only taking me slow so he can savor this moment, this drunken, I-am-yours and you-are-mine, moment.

I pick up the pace for us when I come close to my climax, wanting nothing more than to share this with him. We both let go at the same time, which makes me cling to his body for dear life, I keep pushing until I've emptied my body to him and he's emptied his to me. I kiss his entire face before kissing his lips multiple times.

"I fucking love you," I mutter. "I really fucking love you, and if you ever break my heart again I'll hunt you down, idiot."  He nods, pulling me into him, he says nothing, and I want to thank him for that, because the least I deserve is no conversation.

We fall asleep together, and the best thing about waking up with the person you love that you fell asleep with the previous night, is that they've stayed. They've decided that sleeping next to you is the best thing in the world, they've decided that is where they would like to spend their morning, instead of anywhere else, that to me is the nicest thing in the world, you know? Waking up with the person you fell asleep with. It's the best.

"I'm not ready to share you with the world yet." Dan whispers, kissing his way up my shoulder. I laugh, and shove him off of me playfully, carefully dragging the sheets with me across the room.

I turn to look at him, butt-naked spread on my bed, our bed, smiling like a small child at Christmas. The light is coming in from the window and he's like a scene out of a beautiful movie, his hair is sticking up in the perfect places. He's peaceful, he's charming, he is mine.

"I have to go back to school, you know not all of us can lay around in bed all day looking delicious enough to eat." I inform him.

"So you think I'm delicious enough to eat?" he asks with a laugh, raising eyebrow and basking in all of his glory.

"You should know that I do by now, love." I wink. "I'm going to get a shower so I don't smell like Dan Howell sex and sweat." I laugh and he laughs with me.

"But that's the best scent." he whines. 

I roll my eyes and drop the sheets. "Don't miss my company too much." he bites his lip.

Then I sashay off to the bathroom where I think of all of the ways I'll explain everything to Professor Amari, and how it will all come out, and how I'm going to write all of this down and put every detail onto a piece of paper.

"Hey, Grazia, wait up!" I turn to match the man's voice with a face and when I see who it is I smile.

"Hey Jaxon, what's up?" I ask, he smiles when he reaches me and holy mother of god is it a smile, he's one of the really good looking people put on earth to tempt everyone into trouble and sins.

"I was going to ask if you wanted to walk to class together." he suggests

 "Sure." I nod, and we begin walking together.

I am stopped by four females that are apparently worried about Dan and a few teachers, who ask about his health and when he will be back to classes, I almost roll my eyes, but I just smile and answer their questions.

"So you and Howell are back huh?" he suddenly asks.

"I don't think we ever left, to be completely honest with you." 

He smiles and nods. "That's cool, he's a lucky guy." 

"Lucky? I wouldn't call it luck," I shrug. "Maybe I'm the one who is lucky to have him."

He shakes his head and laughs. "You're the prettiest girl on this campus, Blanchard, don't be so coy, he's the lucky one Grazia, trust me. You know how many guys he's had to warn off; one of them being me?"

I roll my eyes. "Please, prettiest is taking it too far, I wouldn't say I'm ugly, just not the prettiest."

"Name a girl better looking than you." he argues.

"I'm not going to name the pretty girls on this campus—" I disagree but he stops me.

"Because you can't."

"Because it's rude," I retort with a laugh. "I'm flattered, honestly, but what about girls like Luxandra Wilcox or Mckenzie?" I say, he shakes his head laughing.

"Those girls don't touch a hair on your head, Blanchard," he laughs and points to our class. "Ready to go back to Amari's lectures about the beauty of literature?" 

I shrug. "His lectures don't bother me."

"We would have never been a match, would we have?" he asks. I smile small at him.

People pass around us and fill into the classroom. "You know, I don't think we would have, Jaxon, I really don't think we would have. Who's your favorite writer?" I test him.

"Dr. Seuss," he retorts, smirking.

"See, if you would have said Margaret Atwood, or maybe Cecelia Ahem, we would have been the perfect match, but you like Seuss," I smile before disappearing into a nearly filled classroom of people that look too hung-over to be here.

I stare at the back of Catherine's perfect locks, wondering where such a beautiful girl could have gotten such an ugly life. 

The first time I should have left her was when I told her I liked a boy and she became his friend instead of leaving him alone. She said it wasn't her fault when he fell for her. I should have left the first time I realized she had broken me way back but it had been such a slow crack that I hadn't noticed. It's amazing, the power of erosion. I should leave her right now and never speak to her again, but I am almost terrified that might not happen.

She turns to meet my gaze, and I can tell she fights an inner battle to smile at me or turn back around, but she does neither. I just stare at her, at a person that had been my only heartbreak in high school, because she didn't go to my school and it was fun for the guys I dated to like her more than they liked me, and every guy I started dating slowly held her hand like they were holding a certain grain of sand and they stood on me like I was the whole beach and fuck, I was always below her.

Slowly, she smiles at me; as if she's afraid at any moment that smile could turn into tears. And it's a silent apology. I smile back, forgive and move forward, I always forget to look back and it's done me some good over the years.

I can forgive Catherine, because I've lost my father, and I've coped with that. I've lost every guy that was remotely interested in me, and I coped. I lost Dan at one point, too, and I coped with that until I got him back. I can forgive Catherine because she has a dark cloud over her world that will continue raining on her and she will forever get fucked over by every guy she falls in love with and I will not feel bad for her because she does not feel sorry for herself.

I look up at my Professor and pay attention to the assignment at hand.

Clearing his throat, he smiles. "Forgiveness." he says. 

I almost choke, thinking of how ironic it is that he chose that to say of all the things he could discuss.

"What about it?" Jaxon says from somewhere in the back of the class. Professor Amari smiles and shrugs. "You tell me, what about forgiveness?"

"Depends what you're forgiving," a girl speaks up from in front of me, wrong, I shake my head. "No, it depends who you're forgiving," someone else adds. Wrong again, I think silently.

I raise my hand. "You've got to stop feeling sorry for yourself and everyone else to actually be sorry and to actually forgive," I say. 

Amari nods and shrugs. "Do you ever really forgive anyone?" he asks, everyone goes to talk at once, but he stops us. "Write it down, I expect a single quote about forgiveness and what it means to you on my desk by the end of class," he says looking at the clock. "Ten minutes, go."

I don't start writing immediately, I ponder my answer for a good five minutes, and when people start turning their papers in and leaving, I write my answer down.

I hand my paper to Professor Amari, who smirks down at my paper and gives me a thumbs up.

I look down at the same moment that Catherine turns her paper in, she only stares at me while I read it. 'Forgiveness is being able to look at yourself every day and not regret every single mistake you've made.' I just look at her, with a sneer on my face. "Have you forgiven yourself, Catherine?" 

"Not since I was thirteen and still stuffing my bra, Grazia. Have a good day Professor." she smiles and then she leaves the classroom.

I look down at my paper one last time, and read over it to make sure I'm happy with it.

You don't want to let go, but you don't want to be hurt, either. It's not a great place to be but what can I tell you? - Junot Diaz, This Is How You Lose Her.

Chapter Text

June 6th, 2015

"Daniel, you told my mother we were getting married, it is a big deal!" I exclaim, turning to face him hysterically.

"I don't see the big deal, we'll be married eventually, one day anyways." he rolls his eyes.

"Oh that's lovely, you're really confident in that. What do you suppose I tell her now? Hey mum, sorry that Dan told you we were getting married, but it won't be happening for another five, ten years maybe? That's not going to cut it." I snap at him.

"Why won't you marry me? Why do I have to wait for another five years? I'll be graduating soon, we could get a nice house somewhere, I could take care of us, it could happen," he sighs. 

I take a deep breath in and place my hands on either sides of him as he's sitting on a kitchen counter, pouting.  "I want to marry you, but I don't want that to crash and burn. What we have, it's different Dan, I don't want a piece of paper to define what we have here. I want a nice house with you, somewhere I can come home and see your smile every single day and not get tired of it, but I don't want to be smothered, and you tend to pressure me into these things, don't you want me to willingly marry you, not marry you because I am afraid that you will walk away if I don't?" He shifts in his seat and lets out a huff

"Marry me." he says, his gaze away from mine.

I laugh. "You're not even looking at me, Dan."

This makes him laugh too. He looks at me, taking my face in his hands. "Marry me, Grazia Blanchard and I promise to make you the happiest woman on this Earth." 

I smile at him. "You do that now, and I'm not even your wife."

"So imagine what it could be like if you were," he whispers, kissing my nose.

I stand and cross my arms, looking at him. "You graduate in four days, I'll give you my answer then," 

"I guess I'll have to wait." he lets a sigh past his lips. I roll my eyes and take his hand.

"Let's go, prince charming, take me to bed and make love to me." I say, and then we spend a night in pure bliss together, and fall asleep together, and when we wake up together, we have the same conversation.

June 10th, 2015

"Dan would you please quit messing with it?" I say smacking Dan's hand away from his tie. He yanks his neck away from me and starts to untie what I've done.

"Oh my goodness if you don't stop untying that right now I will never talk to you ever again." I say and he stops immediately.

"You're putting it too tight." he complains. 

"If you would stop moving I'd be able to tie it correctly!" I exclaim.

"I swear if I didn't know better, I'd say you were an old married couple," Jackie says as she enters the room. 

"Well, we'll find out today if that's an opportunity for me or not," Dan grins. "Hi, mum, thanks for coming." he adds, kissing Jackie's cheek.

"Don't thank me, Daniel, my eldest son is graduating college, I wouldn't miss this for the world." she waves her hand, and tells him.

I smile at the two of them before pulling out my camera. "Smile," I say and they both give over-the-top, beautiful white smiles and I snap the picture. 

"Not to interrupt the love-fest, but your class is preparing to walk soon." Dan's friend, Phil says. I roll my eyes and laugh while Dan pulls him into an embrace.

Dan turns to me and kisses me, longer than normal, before pulling away and smiling at me. "I expect an answer the second I am off of that stage."

"You'll need to go back to your seat and wait until the end of the ceremony before you get a peep out of me."

 He rolls his eyes before pecking me on the lips. "I'm in love with you," he places his forehead against mine, and closes his eyes. "Just please, please remember that."

"I love you, do good things Dan." I tell him as he's pulling away and following his friend out of the room.

He winks before turning away and joining the graduating class of 2014. I watch him as he walks, playing with my necklace, it's a minute or two before I remember Jackie is beside me, watching me. I give her a genuine smile.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that." I tell her. She waves her hand in dismissal.

"Your love keeps me going dear," she says, placing a hand on my arm. "Thank you for giving him another chance."

"I would've even if you didn't want me to." I whisper. 

 "I know." She smiles.

I sigh and run a finger under both of my eyes to make sure I'm not crying. "Shall we go watch our guy graduate?"

She nods. "I'm proud of him."

"Me too." I agree.

"But I am even more proud of you." She continues on.

 I furrow my eyebrows. "Me? Why, I haven't done anything spectacular in a long time."

"For deciding that this wasn't for you, for being able to identify yourself," she tells me. "For being so strong after you've lost your father, and for dropping out of college before college took a toll on you." 

I smile and shrug. "Jackie, you're son is what makes me strong." 

"I wasn't finished," she says. "I am proud of you for being able to love my son so much that his mistakes aren't as big as how he handles them. I love you, and if you don't end up marrying my son, I know it will devastate him, but I'll understand."

I shake my head, laughing. "Jackie, in my mind we're already married and we have been since day one."

She smiles and together, we walk to our seats where my mother, Franchesca, Dan's father, Dan's grandparents and the rest of the families of every graduating student here are seated. 

As the music starts, and the graduating class of 2014 walk towards their seats, I am chilled to the bone with honor, with pride and with how proud I am of Dan. As his head hangs high, and his smile is glued to his face, I realize there is nothing else I'd rather be looking at.

About a half hour into the ceremony, they begin handing out diplomas. "Mr. Daniel Howell, graduating with a degree in law." they call his name and we all stand and clap as loud as we can. I can't say or shout anything because I am being held to my spot by his stare, and he isn't smiling, just watching me. I crack a smile first and mumble an "I love you" under my breath, and then, he smiles. He shakes all of his teachers' hands before throwing his arms up in the air and hooting like a child, I laugh.

All of his friends pat him on the back as he returns to his seat. When the ceremony is over, and my man is officially a college graduate, he sprints back to where we are all standing and waiting for him, his mother grabs him first and kisses both of his cheeks, then rests her head on his shoulder and hugs him tightly, tears spilling over her face.

"Mum, you're suffocating me, I can't breathe." Dan says laughing.

"Let go of the boy, would you? You're going to kill him." His father speaks up, a scowl on his face.

Dan comes directly to me next and looks at me expectantly. "Well?" 

"Well?" I mock him and smile.

He rolls his eyes. "Don't play with me, Grazia. Tell me what your answer is."

I take a deep breath. "Yes." I tell him.

"Look, I know I'm not going to make the best husband and I'm going to fuck up a lot but... wait, you said yes?" he asks, eyes as big as the moon.

"Yes," I laugh and kiss him. "I'll marry you, Daniel Howell."

Two hours later, we are seated alongside Dan's family, his aunts, uncles and grandparents. They are all sipping expensive champagne, talking about Dan as a child, and I'm smiling, that is until I see his father's scowl and stare at both Dan and I, our hands clasped tightly, a large ring on my finger. I cough uncomfortably and turn away from the situation.

I stand but Dan doesn't let go of me, instead he looks up at me in confusion. "Where are you going?" he asks. 

"To freshen up, don't worry I'm not running away." I tease him.

"Good," he laughs. "I'd catch you."

I roll my eyes and make my way towards the house, I enter the kitchen to find the staff hard at work. I hastily make my way through them and enter the bathroom. I stare at myself in the mirror. Do I look different? I mean, I feel different; I look better than usual, happier, almost.

I exit the restroom when I'm finished and to no surprise, Dan's father is waiting for me. I roll my eyes and turn away from him, but he grabs my upper arm. I yank away from him, scowling. "Don't you dare touch me, don't you even think of it."

He smirks and holds his hands high in surrender. "I wanted to congratulate you actually." 

"For what? Your son is the one that graduated with a law degree,  Sir." 

He loses his smirk, but crosses his arms and looks at me. "Unfortunately, you're taking my family's name, the name I passed down to my very own, defiant, son. And unfortunately that son decided that you were good enough, a girl that has no money and now, no education."

"Is there a point to your insults?" I ask him.

"All I am asking is that you treat the family name kindly and let its reputation stay the way it is, with the marriages I mean," he says. I only look at him. "Just stay faithful to my son, Grazia."

I almost laugh at him. "Do you really think you're in the right position to give relationship advice about staying faithful?" I ask, and then I laugh at him. "I mean this is coming from the man who cheated on his beautiful, smart, kind-hearted wife, with his son's lowlife girlfriend who was willing to stoop down and be with someone like you."

He steps closer to me. "Don't disrespect me in my own house, Grazia."

"You set the bar," I retort. "I just try to aim higher."

Then, I turn away from him. "Is that all?" I ask, I hear him cough behind me and mumble a "yes" so I walk away with my head held high and seat myself beside Dan, who looks at me as if I put the stars in the sky.

"What took you so long?" he asks, concerned.

"Your dad had some marriage advice for me," I tell him, serious. But, then I crack a grin, a grin so large he smiles himself.

"What did you do?"  

I feign innocence."I don't know what you're talking about," I say, and in that moment, his father storms in with knitted eyebrows and a frown. Curious for Jackie's reaction, I look at her, and she is rolling her eyes out of annoyance, I giggle.

"You have a lovely giggle." Dan says, running a finger across my cheek.

"It's not that lovely." I whisper.

"So, Grazia, what do you plan on doing next?" Dan's father suddenly asks and Dan tenses beside me.

"After we get married, we're going to buy a big house and have a lot of kids, Dad, that's what our plans are. We're in this together." Dan answers before I can. I just stare at him, mesmerized.

Dan's father laughs. "Just like that, that easy huh?"

I roll my eyes and answer him. "I plan on writing a novel."

"A novel? Is that it?" he asks me, I squirm, the table is quiet.

"That's it, for now," I tell him, confidently. "I could be someone different in ten years. Who I am now, could change in ten minutes. I'm happy; I think that's more important than anything else. I'm also madly, in love with your son, and as long as I have that, I need for nothing."

He just smirks at the two of us. "That's sweet. I could name some things you'll need though, if I may?" he suggests. I shrug, Dan grips my hand. "A house, I'm sure Dan will handle that, though." He starts, Dan jumps up but I hold him back.

"Our finance is none of your concern," I say, but Dan cuts me off. "Watch your fucking mouth, Dad."

"I'm just saying, what is love without a house or a nice meal to come home to?" he laughs and some of the guests smile uncomfortably.

"Love is coming home - even if that's to a shoebox apartment - and having a microwave meal because both of you are tired from a long day apart, and laying in bed at night and being able to do that because you love who you're laying beside. Luxury is nothing without someone to share it with," I say, and the conversation is over.

Dan carries me into our apartment and throws my heels off. "What are you doing?" I question with a laugh and he kisses me.

"Well I'm going to undress you, kiss you from your head to your toes, then I am going to make love to you three times." he whispers, I almost cum right there.

"Why three times?" I don't recognize my own voice as I ask.

He nips my ear, licking my neck, leaving a trail of kisses as he unzips my dress. "Once, for celebration, I just graduated, I think I've earned this," he whispers, he walks around to the back of me, and pulls me against him and I feel his erection against my back. I gasp.

"And secondly?" I moan at his assault on my neck. He pushes his hands into the front of my dress, palming my breasts; I throw my head back against his shoulder.

"Secondly because the way you defended us to my Father turned me on, I love that side of you," he answers.

"So what's the third for?" I ask as he removes my dress, I am naked from the waist up.

"The third is because I am going to make love to you the first two times," he tells me, now in front of me, looking in my eyes. He bends down and rips my underwear from my legs. He stands again, with my torn underwear in his hand, and a smirk that makes a beeline straight to my core. "And then I'm going to fuck you," he says. "Hard."

And he keeps his promise. Gently, he unravels around me, it doesn't get old and I don't lose interest in having sex with him because it's almost like the first time every time. I move against him faster, picking up our speed, needing him. His voice is strangled, his hair damp with sweat, evidence of how long we've been going at this. I lean down and capture his lips with mine.

When it's over, I wrap my arms around my handsome fiancé that has already drifted off, and watch him sleep for the rest of the night. In the morning, I am greeted by a happy, happy part of his body, and we christen nearly every part of our apartment.

Our apartment. 

I'll never get tired of saying that.

Chapter Text

"Do you think you'll have the look, tomorrow?" Arabella, my childhood best-friend asks while braiding Franz's hair. I shrug and brush my mum's hair back, but I know that Dan and I will have "the look" because we have "the look" every single day of our lives.

"What if he chokes?" Luna asks from across the room, reading the next chapter to the novel I was working on that was on my laptop. I hear her hum every so often at a part she likes and her foot taps.

A gasp erupts from Franz. "What if you choke?" she asks in hysterics. My mum chuckles.

"This isn't an eighth-grade project I am reading in front of my class for a good grade," I roll my eyes. "This is my wedding, something I want just as much as Dan." They nod in agreement.

"I wanted to buy her a stripper but Daniel wasn't having that," my mum chimes in. "Jackie ordered one anyway, he was supposed to be here an hour ago."

The girls clap and laugh in excitement but I drop the brush. "Mum! Why would you allow that to go on? I mean really, did you think I'd be okay with that?"

"Oh hush, Grazia. Your soon-to-be husband is probably at some stripper club thing all the men go to on their bachelor night anyways." my mum replies. 

My stomach tightens and I have the urge to throw up. "No," I whisper. "We agreed that there would be none of that because of the breakup before. I'm going to call him."

"Honey," My mum warns, taking the phone from my hands. "How do you expect to marry this man without trusting him to be around half-naked women without wanting to touch any of them? You are marrying this man, it's not just a relationship anymore, and he should be allowed to go out to bars — as should you, without the both of you worrying the entire time."

I look around the room towards my best friends, who are now all looking at me in agreement with my mum, even Luna has stopped reading to join the conversation.

"It wouldn't do well for our trust if that's where he is right now anyway, mother." I shrug and start brushing my mum's hair again "He said he wouldn't go, I should be able to trust that, too."

"That's true, too," Arabella says

"Call him if it'll make you feel better," My mum sighs. "But I know he's going to get annoyed."

"Give me a sec, please?" I ask them, they all nod and begin to leave the room one by one.

"Can I stay? I'd like to know what happens." Arabella begs and I laugh. "Out!" She rolls her eyes and leaves with the rest of the girls.

I dial Dan's number and wait for him to answer. He answers on the second ring and his voice sends chills straight up my legs and spine. "Hello?"

"Where are you?" I ask before slapping my hand to my forehead after knowing he is going to catch on that I didn't keep my promise to trust that he'd keep his.

"Where do you think?" he asks, laughing. "Is your bedroom window unlocked?" 

"Why?" My perfectly plucked eyebrow quirks up in suspicion.

"Just answer the question, Grazia." he huffs on the other line.

"Yes," I tell him. I hear a loud crash outside my window, and immediately know it's him. I walk over to the window and open it, seeing his body climb up a ladder. I roll my eyes and cross my arms. "How romantic, my very own Romeo, could a girl ask for better?" I say sarcastically.

"Right now I wish we were in Rapunzel and you had long hair you could spare to help a guy out," he says out of breath.

I laugh quietly and grab his hand, helping him climb through my window when he's close enough. Without being completely inside the room yet, he grabs my face and kisses me, multiple times. I giggle and push him away, holding a single finger to my lips.

"My mum is going to come in here and rip you to shreds," I warn him. "Though, there is something really exciting to me about you climbing through my window in the middle of the night."

He winks. "Share with me some more of your fantasies, Mrs. Howell."

I roll my eyes at him and cross my arms. "I'm not Mrs. Howell, yet."

"You will be in a few hours, and I'll never complain about a single thing for the rest of my life when that's your last name." 

"Not even Brussel sprouts?" I ask. He pauses for a moment.

"I take that back," he whispers, we both laugh. "Wow, I'm not even worth giving up your fear of Brussel sprouts for," I remark.

"You'll live," he says. I smack his arm. 

"What are you here for, anyway? I was in the middle of trying to trust you not to be nuzzling your face in some strippers bosom's right now," I joke, but all trace of humor is gone from his eyes.

"Trying? I thought I gave you my word and I thought you respected that word," he says, I roll my eyes and wrap my arms around him just for him to shove me off.

"Dan," I retaliate. "What the hell is your problem?" 

"Why are you marrying me if you don't trust me, Grazia?" he exclaims. "Answer me, why are we getting married in a matter of a few hours if you don't even trust me?"

"Other than the fact that you wouldn't stop asking?" I snap but my eyes grow wide with regret right after I say it. "Wait, stop, I didn't mean that." 

He steps away from me and heads for my door."I thought that after all of this time you'd put the past behind us and fuck, I thought you wanted to marry me as much as I want to marry you." he whispers as if he was now only half of a person and I was the reason why.

My eyes fill with tears instantly, regretting the conversation since the second he showed up. I love this man, the fact that he thinks differently kills me. "Stop," I yell at him, tears threatening to fall. "You are the only man in this world that I love unconditionally, there is no place in my heart where I don't want to love you, do you hear me? Are you listening? I love you." 

"That's all I needed to hear—" I cut him off before he has a chance to continue.

"No, I'm not finished," I viciously wipe the tears pooling at the brim of my eyes. "I can see us growing old together so terrifyingly easily. I am visibly shaking and sweating right now because in just a few hours I am going to marry the only man worth all of the love I can offer and I picture us two years after our marriage when you think setting up a picnic blanket is romantic and I will pretend I don't think it's cheesy and hey, maybe I'll suck your dick because it's the thought that counts and I'll always want to keep it interesting, and I can see our third year with a baby sleeping in my arms soundly because let's face it you'll be so tired you'll fall asleep before the baby does and I can see our teenagers getting into shouting matches and us exchanging looks about who gets to handle the kids, and I can see them at college and work or wherever they choose to go and when they find the right person and try to explain how for some reason they just know I bet they'll be watching us get old, too."

Dan and I laid in bed making out until the sun came up and my mum appeared at the door and said he had to go, winking as if it was the three of our little secret that he was even here, and I almost felt like I was sixteen again.

I was pulled around for the rest of the day, hair, makeup, dresses, shoes and, pictures. I was tired and the wedding hadn't even started yet. My mum cried the entire time - but I expected nothing less. She kept going on about how she wishes dad was here to see me, and something about how I was the most beautiful bride in the entire world, but I knew she was just flattering me because it's what a mother should do.

"I'm sorry I was never a good mother," she said crying again.

I sighed, wrapping my arms around her. "The past is just that, mum. Leave it there, I love you." You're all I have, I want to say.

"Well, I know I should have some type of speech or advice to give you but I've got nothing except, I hope you're as happy in your marriage as I was in mine for a long time, and even though your father and I got divorced, I loved him with all of my heart, Grazia, and I know you love that man out there, too. Happiness means everything, money doesn't and how you feel is never wrong so don't let him tell you that, ever. Oh, and I love you." she rushes.

I laugh at her and throw my arms around her lamely. "I love you more, mum."

I watch silver gowns walk down the aisle I'd be walking soon one by one, and I grasp the arm of the only man I'd trust enough to do the one thing I wanted my father to do and turn to him in all bundles of nerves.

"What if he thinks I look ugly, Pop?" I ask and my grandfather only smiles.

"If anyone thought that about you ever, they were wrong. Besides, he asked you to marry him after seeing you at your worst —which would be in the mornings," he jokes in hopes it would calm me down.

"My dad wanted to walk me down this isle really badly," I whisper.

He smiles and nods. "Any good father does, Grazia. And I hope I'm doing your father proud by doing this for him." I smile and wrap my arm tighter around his.

And then the moment came. It was as if a million little butterflies decided my stomach was the perfect place to be at this given moment. And when I saw Dan for the first time at the end of that aisle, and saw the look of pure admiration and love, I knew this was what I wanted. This was a right decision because I honestly make so many bad decisions but that fucking look right there, that's what this whole thing is about. I'll live forever to see that look; I never want to lose the memory of it.

When my grandfather gives me away and I get close enough to Dan, he just looks at me with tears in his eyes. "You look beautiful, I love you," he whispers and I only smile at him because it is unspoken between us, but he knows exactly how I feel about him as well.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this company, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church and therefore is not by any to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly; but reverently, discreetly and, in the fear of God. Into this holy estate, these two persons present come now to be joined. If any man can show just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace."

And so it begins.

"Wilt thou have this Woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?" The priest asks, Dan turns to me smiling.

"I do." He answers.

"Wilt thou have this Man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love him, comfort him, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?"

"I do," I answer, and it is law.

Mum insisted on a big celebration after — all I wanted to do is take off in an airplane to wherever my husband has chosen for us to honeymoon and take this dress off, but my mum insists that I'll regret it if I don't have one — so I let her throw us one anyway.

I am not the party type, so after three in the morning and three glasses of champagne, I take off in a very expensive limousine with my husband. "Are you surprised your father didn't try to stop this entire thing?" I ask him, once we are safely back at our apartment for a quick change of clothes and our bags.

Dan shrugs, but still, his smile has not left his face. I frown and stare at him. "Speaking of your father, I didn't see him, at all."

Dan chuckles. "I banned him from coming." 

My eyes grow wide. "You think of everything, it's a good thing I married you."

"Don't get used to me being the genius around here, it's going to take your brains and energy to raise all of those children you promised me." 

I roll my eyes."Come on, we're going to be late for our plane," I tell him, but he stops me by kissing me. And he tastes like getting drunk off of peppermint schnapps and lying naked in the snow and praising the lord for making the universe so full of love.

He kisses me like we are born as rain and the only way we know how to feel alive is to fall, he kisses me like I am his favorite work of art but most important of them all, he kisses me like the woman he loves, because he is now lawfully my husband and I am lawfully and undeniably his wife and we are so in love it is like our bones have been broken into brittle and we are falling apart around each other so easily.

"Take your underwear off," he whispers against my lips. "And don't wear them for the rest of the trip, I want to be driven crazy by you."

I laugh. "Crazier than you already are?" 

He laughs this time, too. "I want to be absolutely mental."

"It won't take much," I tease him, pulling my shorts down my legs. I pull my underwear from my body and pull my shorts back up my legs. "We are going to have to teach you how to undress a woman, properly, by the way," I say

"Just because I couldn't get your wedding dress off doesn't mean I can't undress a woman," he rolls his eyes. "We'll have a lot of practice anyway."

"You're way too confident in that." I retort, picking up my bag and leaving him standing in our bedroom.

"I'll have you begging me to make love to you before we even get on the plane, gorgeous," he teases me, before following me out of our apartment and out to our cab that has been patiently waiting for us, and then we board a plane to Paris.

Chapter Text

"I don't want to do shitty things when we're here, Dan," I tell my husband and turn to meet his confused face. "I mean, I want this to be memorable, I don't want to just see the Eiffel Tower or just eat a delicious baguette."

"I know how we can see everything while we are here, and we don't even have to leave the room," he suggests, winking. I roll my eyes and throw myself onto the bed.

"I know what you want to do, but I'm being serious, Dan. I want to be satisfied when I leave," I tell him.

"Don't worry gorgeous, I'll satisfy you, and you'll never be unsatisfied for another day in your life," he says. And I believe him.

Dan stands and heads to the mini fridge in the corner of the room and I watch him all the way there, admiring him. I won, big time. I smile at him as he turns to me with two wine glasses. "You know, when you were seventeen, you were pretty stupid," he says, my mouth drops.

"Excuse me? You're in your late twenties and you still are and always have been stupid," I joke, keeping a small smile on my face.

"I'm just saying that you dated a lot of the wrong guys," he says.

"Yeah, because you were too much of a pussy to say a word to me except the occasional, 'Hey Grazia, you forgot your maths homework in study hall,'" I say, laughing.

"Pussy? No, sweetheart, I was never too pussy to say a word to you-you were always just hung up on the dumbest guys," he laughs to himself. "Besides, that just proves my point that you were stupid enough to leave your maths homework in study hall."

I throw a pillow at him and laugh. "Hey, I ended up with you, didn't I? Are you calling yourself a dumb guy?"

He rolls his eyes. "You know what I mean, Grazia."

"You're overdramatic, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, how about we get a start on all of those kids you owe me?" he says wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

I roll my eyes and lower my eyes at him. "Dan you big stud, take me to bed or lose me forever," I recite a line from his favorite movie, and just like that we are kissing each other and making love.

He has brown eyes with long lashes and his hands are gentle sirens, coaxing me into a long fall, I kiss him so hard I bet our ancestors shake their bones and fall to pieces. I have his hair in my fingers and he is beneath me.

We sleep together like two people who have learned each other well enough to know that I hate too much heat but I get cold fast and that he hates cream cheese. We know the small things and the big things and we know everything and that's a good thing.

Kristin Martz once wrote, "We lose ourselves in things we love. We find ourselves there, too," and I've only come to openly understand that when I finished my very first novel, something that had my name and hard work written all over it.

I think this is the tricky part about love, those who write about it, understand the small things, but never the big things, and those who roll their eyes at it never understood it or have the inability to. I think we are all born to love, I think that is the task to accomplish with your time here on this Earth, and those who never seek to find any, are the ones who die with regrets.

I lean over and kiss my husband, he was my task. I smile down at him and he smiles up and me and god, what greater sight could there be? I never wanted to find out. I don't believe that there are greater things than the things we love, and it could be a person, a song, a poem, it could be anything, you are allowed to love anything, and that's why I love Daniel Howell.

"Are you as ready for your doctor's appointment as I am?" Dan asks, rolling over to his side of the bed and stretching.

"I'm more excited to publish my book," I tell him. "I suck at doctor's appointments; at least I know I'm good at writing."

He laughs. "Come on, act a little excited, we are about to find out if we're pregnant," he says.

"I'm bitter about it," I tell him, as we both stand up off the bed and pull the covers back. "I mean, I'm the one that has to carry another human being around inside of me for months, why couldn't you be the one with a vagina? I go through so much already," I say, pouting.

We get in bed and I curl into him as he kisses my head. "I'd carry the baby if I could, you know that," he says laughing and it makes me laugh. "Besides, if I had a vagina, you wouldn't be interested anymore."

"Are you assuming I'm only using you for your dick?" I ask him, he smiles and nods. "You'd be right."

"Well you're definitely expecting," Dr. Gomez says, and I don't think Dan's face could light up any brighter if he tried. His eyes grow wide and a smile plasters against his face, and my heart completely grabs the moment.

Dan finally turns to me and laughs; he grabs me and kisses me, hard. I sit in shock for a few moments, wondering how far along I was, how soon we were going to have to move out of the small apartment we've grown so comfortable in, and how our parents were going to take the news. I picture Jackie crying and throwing her hands around hysterically while congratulating us.

"You're twelve weeks along, Mrs. Howell, and everything seems to be pretty normal. You're having the normal signs, right? Weight gain, no period, breast pain? Things like that?" Dr. Gomez asks and I nod.

"Yes," I answer.

"Are you having morning sickness or any abnormal abdominal pain?" she asks me.

"I'm having morning sickness, no unbearable pain, I imagine this process isn't painless, though," I joke, Dan smiles and the Doctor nods.

"You seem to be doing just perfect for a woman as far along as you are. Is this the first you're hearing of your pregnancy or did you know you were pregnant previous to this?" she asks.

"This is new news to us," I answer.

"You do know you're going to have to start taking vitamins right away and make appointments to come and see me regularly, correct?" she asks, and I nod.

"I'm new at this thing, so can I ask a few questions?" I ask her, she smiles and nods. "It's what I'm here for, Mrs. Howell."

"Right," I laugh at my stupidity. "How many weeks is it until my second trimester?"

"Well, usually my patients know they are pregnant way before their third month," she says and then she pauses to look at me. "But with a patient like you who is just finding out, it's very common to not know what your trimesters and months and weeks mean. You are twelve weeks along, which means you are exactly three months pregnant. Your second trimester begins when you are thirteen weeks pregnant, which is very soon for you."

I pale. I want to slap myself for being so stupid and waiting so long to find out, I grip Dan's hand tight. "Okay, thank you. Does that mean I have to come back next week?"

"No," she answers. "Everything looks good here and it looks like you're having a very healthy pregnancy, I'll have you go out and make appointments when we are finished here and they will draw you up a very detailed chart of your upcoming appointments."

I nod, feeling overwhelmed by so much emotion. Confusion, excitement, how tired I am. It takes a toll on a person.

 When Dan and I are finished at the appointment, we head to his parents' house to find Dan's father just as sick as the last time we were here.

"How is my daughter-in-law?" Jackie asks as soon as she sees us, grabbing me in a bone-crushing hug. I laugh and pull her in tighter.

"I'm doing well, how are you?" I ask her politely.

"Not as good, his father won't stop complaining, says he's bored in this house, but his doctor suggests it's best to keep him here," she complains, I laugh and shake my head.

"Men," I tease, rolling my eyes.

"I take offense to that," Dan jokes. "And way to greet your son first, mum."

She grabs Dan and hugs him just as hard. We sit together on the couch and talk about recent events, but Dan and I's minds are occupied about the pregnancy, not exactly sure how we are going to let the cat out of the bag yet.

"Mum, we have something to tell you," Dan speaks up, I turn to him in shock to find him smiling, I just turn back to Jackie with my face red, Dan's hand slips into my lap to hold my hands which have now become sweaty.

We stumble over each other's words as we try to let her know. "You see, recently it's come to our attention that..." Dan starts and he turns to me for guidance. I roll my eyes and turn to look at Jackie.

"We're pregnant," we say at the same time.

"Well I'm pregnant," I say. Dan laughs.

"And I helped," Dan tells her, and we all laugh.

Jackie's eyes glisten with unshed tears and she pulls us both into a hug this time, but nonetheless, the bone-crushing part is still there. When she pulls away she wipes at her eyes and laughs. "I am so happy for you both, congratulations. Do you know how far along you are? When did you find out?" she asks.

"She's three months, and we found out today," Dan tells her.

She looks confused. "You're three months pregnant and you didn't know until today? Oh god have mercy, you must have been so confused."

I laugh at Jackie's concern. "I'm okay, it was confusing, but we put two-and-two together eventually," I tell her.

"Does your mother know her and I will be grandmothers soon?" she asks.

"No, no one but you knows yet," I say.

"And let's keep it that way, mum," Dan adds.

"Daniel James, I am offended by that comment, I know how and when to keep my mouth shut," she says, doing her best to look angry.

"I'll pretend to believe that," Dan says. "Is dad awake?"

"Yes, but he's having a bad day," Jackie says. "Do you want to see him?"

Dan turns to look at the door leading to Dan's father's room and shakes his head. "No, it's okay."

"I'd like to see him if that's okay," I offer, and Dan turns to me quizzically.

"You might be holding grudges around here, but I'm not," I tell him.

I follow Jackie to the bedroom where we hear Dan's father coughing ungodly. "Are you sure you want to do this? He might be in a very bad mood," Jackie warns, I nod. "That's okay, we all have bad days."

She smiles and opens the door slowly, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Sweetheart, you have a visitor," she says, he doesn't turn to see who could be coming to see him after he's made enemies out of everyone he knows, he just keeps looking at the view from his window, he's seated in a medically necessary wheel-chair while smoking a cigar.

I want to cough and tell Jackie I can't be around the smell, but I fight the urge and sit beside him. Jackie leaves the room after debating about it for a minute and that's when Dan's father speaks up. "You here to give me some money?" he asks, I want to laugh. He doesn't look at me.

"I think you have enough of your own to be taking mine," I tell him. "Besides, I'm living for two now, my kid can't have nothing because a sick, dying man wants it all, that wouldn't be fair, would it?"

He side eyes me momentarily before chuckling, which leads to a fit of coughing. "No, I guess it wouldn't be. But then, when have you known me to be a man of fairness? Everything I got in my life was because I played the game unfairly," he says and smiles at me before winking.

"I want to name our kid after you and my father, if it's a boy," I tell him, he smirks at this before bringing the cigar up to meet his lips. "But Dan hates you, and doesn't think that's a good idea."

"My own son hates me," he laughs. "That's something to tell the papers."

"I don't think anyone should tell the papers anything but the truth, you were bitter, you were mean, you lied, you cheated, you had an affair with your son's girlfriend once upon a time, and you had a beautiful wife and a beautiful son. You had it all, and even though you screwed it up, man did you live a hell of a life," I say, and this time I'm not looking at him.

He looks from me to the window and then to me again. "I knew I didn't like you for a reason," he says chuckling, and then he smokes some more. "It's because you're so damn sharp with your words, kid. I don't like honest people, but damn, you do it well," he says laughing to himself.

"You're dying," I tell him. He looks at me as if it doesn't take a rocket scientist to notice the deep dark circles around his eyes or the way his body looks like it's devouring itself, he looks just the way my Dad did right before he died. "I just mean, I wanted you to read my book before you did."

His eyebrow quirks up in amusement. "Me? Read your book? I'd give you a bad review just to fuck with you, you know that." he says.

"Which is why I wouldn't believe you," I tell him, he sighs and holds out his hand.

"Give me the book, kid, and stop talking you're giving me a headache," he says, I pull a rough copy of my completely finished book from my bag and hand it to him.

"Don't cry, old man," I tell him, standing up to leave him alone once again, I put my hand on his shoulder, as if to show my forgiveness, and it's the first physical contact I've had with the man in all of the years I've been with his son.

"Goodbye," I say, he grabs my hand before I can walk away.

"I love my family," he tells me, and I believe him.

I walk out of his room, and spot Dan sitting by his mother on the couch. He spots me and stands up immediately coming over to me. "Are you okay? Did he do anything to you?"

"He's a bitter old man, Dan, what's the worst he could do to me? I think the worst has been done, don't you? Go in there and forgive your Dad."

Dan looks from me to the door and clenches and unclenches his jaw. "Where do you get off thinking you know everything from one talk with the fucking man? Hm? Let's go, we are leaving."

"I thought we were past all of these grudges, guess the child still holds onto them," I tell Jackie; she places a hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing. I take my slow time hugging Jackie and promising to come back soon and then Dan and I go home.

Weeks pass in uncomfortable silence as we spend most of our time consoling Jackie as she weeps to us about Dan's dad and how he's slowly dying right in front of her eyes. I don't ask her about the book, and I don't wonder if he finished it, I only hope for the best.

I don't ask Dan about his Father, I know he wouldn't answer honestly. We lie in bed and say nothing to each other as Dan runs his hands up and down my arms. "How are you feeling?" he asks, I turn and smile at him.

"I'm okay," I tell him.

"When are you finally going to let me read your book?" he asks me, sitting up excitedly as if I am going to hand him a copy of it and he's going to read it and love it right then and there.

I roll my eyes. "I told you, when it's published."

He stares at me hard before snapping his fingers as if he just figured out the seven wonders. "There's something else, there's some reason why you won't show me the book and why you won't publish it yet."

I gulp and shrug. "Call it writer's superstition," I say faking a yawn and laying on my side.

He grabs my arm and flips me over, and smiles down at me. "I'm your husband; I know everything about you so start speaking, Mrs. Howell."

I roll my eyes and shove a pillow in his face. "Go to sleep fat head," I say, he laughs.

"Fat head? Are we in middle school now? That was weak, Grazia," he jokes but his facial expression becomes serious once more. "Tell me."

"I'm waiting for someone's approval of it, first," I tell him.

"Wait, you let some other person read it before me?" he asks, and he looks truly pained. I sigh and put my face in my hands.

"Don't be mad at me," I whisper. "I have my reasons for giving it to him."

"Him?" Dan exclaims. "Who is this guy?"

"It's your Dad," I murmur. I feel ashamed of myself, I know it was morally wrong for me to give Dan's Dad my book before I gave him one, but it felt right. "Don't be mad at me, Dan."

"I'm so mad at you," he exclaims. "You gave a copy to that lowlife piece of shit before you gave it to me?" he asks.

I begin crying, partly out of guilt and partly because of how bad I felt for Dan's father. "Listen to yourself, listen to the names you're calling your Father, Dan," I exclaim.

He gets out of the bed and runs his hands over his face roughly three times before he crosses his arms over his bare chest and sucks his teeth at me. "You know, I thought my own wife would be on my side about this, guess I was wrong."

I wipe my eyes. "You're so mean, you're so fucking mean," I scream at him, and I watch as his face registers my words.

"I'm mean?" he shouts. "I'm the mean one? My father tried to keep us apart and all of a sudden you're being his great defender, a fucking advocate of what good of a man he was!" he shouts at me.

"Please stop shouting," I say. He laughs sarcastically.

"Why? Don't you love this? Me getting mad at you? Fuck this bullshit," he says turning away from me, grabbing his clothes. He begins dressing, I stand to stop him but I'm no match for him.

"Where are you going?" I shout this time.

"Out," he snaps.

"Don't leave me," I beg him, crying again.

"Get off of me," he growls when I latch myself to his arm.

"You are my fucking husband doesn't that mean anything?" I ask him. "Look at me, do you like this? Dan, stop," I beg him as he starts walking out of the apartment.

"I said get the fuck off of me, Grazia," he shouts, shoving me off of him this time.

I lose my balance and tumble backward, but stay on my two feet. He looks at me in shock and I just stare at him. He reaches out to touch me but I pull away from him.

"Go," I shout at him. "If your dad reading my book before you makes you act like this then I don't even want to look at you. You're making me sick," I shout at him, he drops his hand as if he remembers now why he was so mad before.

"Don't wait up for me," he says clearing his throat.

"Don't come back," I snap back, he looks wounded but I stand my ground. "And if you do want to grace me and your child with your presence sometime later when you're drunk out of your mind, we will gladly shut the door in your face — or better yet, we won't even answer because you're fucking pathetic," I tell him.

He doesn't stick around to hear anymore, he leaves and I feel alone all over again. Unwillingly, I go back to the breakup, and that's when I realize that nothing has really changed, we are just older and married.

I go to bed without him that night and in the pit of my stomach, I feel it, the same death feeling I got when my dad passed, or when Dan was in that bad accident, it's almost like a trigger, like a gunshot that isn't supposed to hit you as hard as it does.

I sit up and stare at my bedroom walls, waiting for the call, waiting for Dan to come home and beg me to forgive him and wait for me to beg him back, I wait for it all and none of it comes. I count the minutes that stretch between Dan and I like we are ice ages.

I am counting stars and raindrops and how many seconds I can go without wondering where he is. Then, it happens.

The phone rings at 5:35 in the morning and I am at Jackie's house at 5:45 that same morning.

She cried until 6:57 before the entire family showed up with endless amounts of food and their love, but I struggled to cry. I wanted to cry, really bad, I wanted to hold Dan as he cried, but even when Dan stormed through the door and looked around, the tip of his nose red, evidence of shed tears, I don't cry, I just stare at him, and he stares back.

At 9:40 after everyone has said their goodbyes to Dan's father's corpse, Dan and I walk into the bedroom that his father once occupied and despite our fight, he holds my hand as he kneels beside his father's lifeless body. His eyes are closed and he looks at ease, but even I hated thinking that because no one should be so comfortable in their death.

I feel Dan's first teardrop after a few minutes, and I use my hands to wipe them off his face but give up after they don't stop coming. I just hold him and pray that the way he shakes fades from my memory soon.

"Don't mistake this for love," Dan tells me. "I didn't love him."

"Then why are you crying?" I ask him. When he doesn't answer, I continue. "We love the people that hurt us, it's a fact of life, don't be ashamed of it, Dan."

"I hated him," he tells me.

"You hated the way he made you feel, but you loved him, and that's okay," I tell him.

"I didn't hate him," he finally admits, and when he starts crying again, I hold him even closer to me and I don't hesitate to kiss him in hopes that it would heal him at least a little.

When we are finished saying goodbye, we leave Jackie to be the last to say goodbye to him.

When they bring his father out of the house, Jackie sits between Dan and I and cries, and we console her. We sit and talk for a while, about Dan's father, about what it was like to have known him — the good and the bad, and then Jackie drops a bomb on us like no other.

"He left letters," she says, standing and heading to the kitchen. "For all three of us," she says. This catches my attention, and when she hands us a stack of letters, we are lost in confusion, not knowing if this is something we want to do in front of each other or not.

People show up until 7:58 that night and then they give Jackie her space. She stops crying officially at 8 and tells us she is going to bed around 8:30. We give her the space she needs, too, and we leave to go home.

I don't ask Dan how he's feeling; it wouldn't be a real answer, I knew that. We walk into our apartment and I pour myself a glass of orange juice and watch him just kind of forget how to operate correctly, I can tell this whole thing is very foreign to him.

"So," I start. "Where were you all night?" I ask.

He just shrugs. I sigh. "This doesn't work like this, Dan. You don't stay out all night just because we have a fight or you don't get your way. Where were you?" I ask.

"I felt betrayed, Grazia," he snaps. "You let my Dad read something that was so important to your life and our life before you let me read it."

"It was about him!" I exclaim, and then the weight falls from my shoulders.

The room was silent as he said nothing, only stared at me. "The book was about him," I say, letting the built up tears from today cascade down my face. "I wrote a book based off of him, and I wanted him to read it before he died, and I wanted him to be the judge of it and now I don't even know if he finished it all or even liked it."

"You wrote a book about my Dad? The same guy that tried to stop you from seeing me, the one that tried to stop our wedding from happening, the very same guy that fucked one of my girlfriends and never apologized for it — to me or my Mother?" he asks, I gulp but nod anyway.

"You have to understand," I start but he cuts me off. "No, I don't understand," he snaps. "I don't understand and I won't understand and now I don't even want to fucking read the book."

"You don't want to read my book?" I ask, clearly baffled and he just looks at me.

"I want nothing to do with that man," he says. "He's dead, where he belongs. Probably in Hell, starting fights galore," he snaps.

"Don't talk about him that way," I whisper, feeling sorry for Dan. It's like the confession back at his parents' house didn't happen, like he didn't cry over his father's death. I felt sorry because for as long as Dan's been alive, His father made his son his trophy piece, Dan lived his life following his Dad's rules until he got old enough to make his own.

"Why not, why are you acting like my Dad's great defender? His fucking advocate," he shouts, and I count the veins that pop from his neck.

"You can talk to me like a normal person, you know, I deserve at least that much," I tell him. "All of this hollering is getting us nowhere, all it means is that you're not listening."

"I'm listening, I'm just not hearing much of anything worth listening to," he snaps. He picks up his letters and throws them across the room. "There's how much his letters mean to me. Words, they mean so little when you're so late," he says chuckling to himself.

"Where were you last night?" I ask him, chasing him into our bedroom.

"None of your business," he says. I pause and stare at him shocked.

"None of my business? Everything you do is my business!" I shout at him.

"I was with Catherine!" he shouts, and it's like the Earth has stopped moving. "I didn't end up there at first but then I was and now here we are, are you going to cry about it now? Because I'm tired and I don't want to deal with the tiny tears," he snaps.

The trust we built over the years, the vows we made, everything meant nothing now, and it was his entire fault. "I get it, okay? I wrote a book that you didn't get to read the second I was finished, I wrote a book about a person I was inspired by, I messed up," I say, and against my will, I start crying. "But you-you motherfucker, I trusted you. You said you loved me." I say.

He pulls his shirt off and stands still looking at me. "I do love you."

"Bullshit," I shout. "You can't help yourself but to lie."

"I never lie to you," he says and shrugs. "I'm being honest, aren't I? I told you where I was, who I was with."

"You were with a girl you fucked behind my back, in my bed, in my car; you were with someone who ended things between us before!" I yell at him. "You withheld the information, which means even you didn't want to admit that you fucked up."

"Where are you going with this?" he asks. "I have work in the morning."

I laugh at him. "I'm going to my mother's, that's where I'm going."

He stops moving around the room and just stares at me. "You're leaving me?"

"You left me last night," I shrug. "The only difference is I'm not going to fuck one of my exes."

"I didn't fuck one of my exes," he says.

"No, you two sat around and had a long conversation and reminisced on the past," I say then I chuckle. "What a great past you two share. Tell me, Dan, how well is our friend Catherine doing? Prettier than before, maybe?"

"I didn't go looking for her," he snaps. "And I didn't sleep with her."

"I am so mad at you," I tell him, and I cry. "I'm not staying here tonight; I don't want to breathe the same air as you right now. I will be home when I think you're worth talking to."

I grab my bag and begin packing necessary things that I would need, I pack for a few days, knowing that as soon as I clear my head, I had to come back and face my husband and his unfaithfulness to my trust.

"Don't leave me alone," he says.

I look up at him but look away just as fast, knowing he would stop me if I continued staring at him. "You can call Catherine, I'm sure she'd love to keep you company."

He sighs. "Would you stop packing, please? Let's talk this out," he says.

"Talk," I say, picking my bag up and leaving the room. He follows me, I look for my shoes.

"You're not leaving," he says. "She showed up at the bar I was at and it just surprised me, she sat down and started talking. I told her that I was stressed and she asked about you," he says. I stop and turn to him, even angrier than before.

"You offered information up about me to that bitch?" I scream at him.

"No," he says. "I just said you're pregnant."

"You gave her information about our personal life together? I can't even look at you right now," I say, putting my sneakers on. "I'm leaving; you know where to find me in case of an emergency. By emergency, I mean if my apartment is burning down."

"What about if I have an emergency?" he asks.

"Like what?" I ask.

"What if I miss you?" he asks.

I just look at him. "Call Catherine, she was a good replacement before, I'm sure she'll work just as good even now."

And I leave.

Chapter Text

I lie on my mum's couch that night and reflect on the day. Deaths, confessions, it was all overwhelming. I look towards my suitcase and think about reading the letter from Dan's father. I stand and find the letter and lie back down and begin reading.

Dear Grazia,

I am very disappointed in you, you failed to get one thing right in your book - I was not a good person in the hour of my death, I died the same way I was born, crying and needing things. I was just as selfish coming in as I was going out, and that's one thing I think needs to be changed, but even if you don't change it, that's okay, I like knowing you think that highly of me, even if I never once thought to think so highly of you, until now.

I'm going to go out on a limb here and say you didn't tell my son that you were showing me your book, and I'm going to also say you probably have yet to show him your book. I'm not sure how much he will like the book, considering it talks about our lives so closely, but I hope he does take the chance to read it, you write so effortlessly, even I felt sorry for myself by the end of it.

You wrote, "I feared death, but I feared living any longer even more. I feared I would have to see all of the people I screwed over before I got to heaven, if there even is one. I feared my son wouldn't' visit me before I died. I feared my wife would drink herself to death. I feared all of that and more. I feared I lived this life for no reason, no reason at all."

While that is true, and I feared those things since I found out how close to death I was, you missed some things and got some things wrong. I am writing this, and I might as well be dead already, I feel dead. I am staring across the room at my sleeping wife, she drools, never let her deny that.

I stop reading to laugh and touch my face, wet from tears. Immediately, I start reading again after I grab a tissue.

I am staring at her, and she is so beautiful. From the way her hair is falling down her face to the way her mouth hangs open when she's asleep. I missed out on all of this my whole life, and I don't deserve her, never have, never did. But I loved her, believe that. I love her with everything I had, everything I ever did was to try and make her happy. Back to the book, thank you for being so correct about Jackie, she was and is everything you wrote about her. Beautiful, strong, passionate, mine.

I have to address something else about your book, too. The part about our relationship, you and me. I never thought you were good enough for my son, but even I had to admit his face lit up when he talked about you, he was on cloud nine when he met you. I hope it stays that way forever, and I am confident now that you will be everything my son needs you to be. You are everything he needs you to be. Here's the thing, I think it's really my son I'm worried about in that relationship - not you. He doesn't know how to be anyone else but himself, and that gets him into a lot of problems he can't get out of. He's hot-headed and has a bad temper, he is set in his ways, and we both know that by now. Just do me a favor, and don't give up on him, he has no one else but you. He loves no one but you.

I am sorry for not making your wedding day, but my son threatened me. Imagine me with a smile on my face right about now, because the situation is humorous. I'm sure you made one of the most beautiful brides. I have a lot of regrets about my life, Grazia. One of them is not treating you the way I did, though, and I hope you can understand that anything I've ever said or done to hurt you or your relationship with my son was to protect him. I imagine a day where you will come to terms with that and accept it. I do care for you, you are giving me and my wife a grandchild and I couldn't ask for a better gift from someone. Just do me a favor and make sure the kid - if it's a boy - carries the family name, and possibly (if they're interested) they learn the family business and one day have enough knowledge to carry it on. Thank you, for everything.

Grazia, you thanked me in your book, and while I am grateful, I feel terrible that I can't be there to see the day it is published and sitting in every book store in America. I signed the copy you gave me, and I hope you do keep that copy, I read the entire thing. I loved the book, and even though I cried during it, I couldn't have imagined a better biography about myself.

I had some pretty low points in my life, but you must understand why they occurred and how I handled them. I did some bad things to my family, the family I was supposed to love and care for. I cheated on my wife, I destroyed my son. I tried to keep my son from living his dream; you have to know that, that is what hurts the most. I am honored to of had a son like Daniel, he is the most honorable and noble man I have ever known, and I am grateful to of called myself his Father, even if I wasn't half the time.

I got your letter, too. I didn't see it at first, but it fell from the book, and I read it, three times. I am sorry you feel the way you do about death, but I am going through it right now. Do not be afraid of death, everyone has to go through it.

If I can offer a piece of advice, not that you have to take it — it would be to let the things that are going to take their natural course, take them. No one outruns death, and no one should want to. Death is an important goal in life, it needs to happen so you can complete your time here on Earth, please understand that. This is the most peaceful I have been in my entire life, I am letting go of the things I cannot change. You need to also.

I am going to say goodbye now since I probably will not be able to say it in person. Goodbye, Grazia. It was a pleasure knowing you, and thank you, for everything. For the book, for the happiness you give my son, for the smile you put on my wife's face, and for loving me as a father-in-law, no matter what I put you through.

Until we meet again.

I place the letter down on the table and put my face in my hands. I am crying. I want to hug Dan's father, tell him I forgive him for all of the things he's ever done to me personally, but I realize the book was my forgiveness. I look up to notice my mum by the stairs in her robe.

"Mum," I whisper, wiping my tears. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"No," she tells me, smiling at me. She sits beside me and wraps me in her arms. "I couldn't sleep; I knew something was wrong with my little girl."

She wipes a tissue across both of my cheeks before giving me a kiss on the head. "Tell me what's wrong. I worry for you, Grazia."

"I just did something that hurt Dan deeply and I don't know how to fix it because," I pause. "He was with Catherine, mum. He saw her last night," I weep.

She pushes my hair out of my face and behind my ears before pulling me into a motherly embrace and rubbing my back. "And how did that make you feel?" she asks.

I wipe my tears and sigh. "Like nothing has changed. Like we are still the same people we were when we broke up. I felt isolated and betrayed. I wanted him to be honest, and even when he was, it wasn't enough," I admit. The confession is worse than it all.

"I don't want to sound like I am defending him, by all means, he is wrong. But, sometimes, we mess up, and we do things out of anger and jump the gun too fast, why did he go to see her?" she asks.

"Well, he says he didn't plan it, that she was at the bar, and I believe him. We fought over my book," I say.

"What about it?" she asks.

"I let Dan's father read it first because, it was about him," I tell her. She looks surprised.

"Oh," is her response. "Well, did you explain to him your reasons?"

"I tried to, but he made me so angry, I had to get out of there, I felt like I was suffocating," I tell her. She nods. "What's in the letter, Grazia? Who wrote it?"

I look towards the letter. "Just a friend, it made me sad, that's all," I tell her. I don't know why I lied, but maybe just this one thing didn't have to be told. I could keep this to myself, it was mine. If it was something that was supposed to be shared, I'd share it.

She pulls my hair out from inside of my shirt and rubs my back. "If you say so. If you ever want to talk about it, you know I'm here for you."

I smile. "Thank you, Mum. You can go back to bed, I'm sorry for keeping you up."

"You're my child, you're allowed to," she says, smiling. She stands and heads for the stairs. "Goodnight, I love you."

I smile. "I love you too, Mum."

I wake at noon the next morning and immediately check my phone to find no messages. I grab my mouth and without warning dart to the bathroom. Morning sickness: the worst possible part of pregnancy.

"The beauty of becoming a mother," my Mum says from the door. I roll my eyes and flush the toilet, and then I brush my teeth.

"No, its okay Mother, I'm just puking my brains out, but thanks for the kind words and an amazing helping hand," I say sarcastically, already feeling bad about the day.

"Someone's cranky," she laughs. "I'll let you get dressed. Then you can go home and talk to your husband and fix what needs to be fixed."

I nod. "Not sure it will go that smoothly, but one can hope."

She laughs. "Well, sweetheart, wear a really tight top and make sure he gets a good view of your girls, I'm sure he'll be quiet and listen," she says, and it makes us both laugh.

"You're completely crude, mum. I love it," I say before closing the door and getting a shower.

After I am dressed, I pack my things while my mum is sat in the kitchen, laughing on the phone. I smile at her before signaling for the door. She ends her call and grabs me in a bone-crushing hug, mumbling that she loves me and is always here for me.

"Thanks for letting me stay, I'm sorry for waking you up so late in the night," I tell her. She swats my statement away.

"Call me and tell me how things go, don't go back unless you have a completely open and clear mind, understood?" she asks. I nod.

"Goodbye mother, I'll call you."

I get in my car and make my long journey home.

I enter our apartment quietly but see no sign of Dan. Part of my heart drops, thinking he went to spend the night with Catherine, but then I hear him in the shower. I sigh in relief and drop my bags as soon as I enter the bedroom. Beer cans among beer cans among beer cans are lined up along our bureau.

I sigh and run my fingers through my hair. Then, the shower turns off. I panic a little but realize this was my place, too. I had a life here too, and it was with him. This is my husband, I was acting silly. He comes out; a towel wrapped around his waist and easily takes my breath away. He's towel drying his hair, and then he sees me.

He looks like he's seen a ghost.

We just stand there looking at each other. "Well? Are you going to say anything?" I ask him. He blinks.

"I'm sorry I just," he stutters, "I thought you were going to leave me for good."

I roll my eyes. "I'm sorry for the way I acted last night, and for letting your dad read my book, but I'm not sorry that I wrote it about him because I wrote a hell of a book and I won't let your hatred for him ruin that for me."

He blinks as if I'd slapped him. Then, he nods. "I'm sorry too, for not leaving the second I saw Catherine and for overreacting about the book, I am proud of you. And, I still want to read it. And, I still love you."

I nod. "Can we go back to being a happily married couple expecting a baby now?"

He laughs. "Yes. I didn't sleep last night," he says.

"I did," I say, shrugging, and he looks perplexed, it makes me laugh. "Don't give me that look, I'm always exhausted, I'm pregnant, there is a human inside of me."

He gets his mischievous look on and smirks. "This human would like to be inside of you."

I roll my eyes. "Okay, I need a foot massage and lots of food, and if you are as good as my expectations are, maybe I'll sleep with you."

He looks surprised and rejected. But that's replaced by his challenging look. "Well I better stay naked then," he says. Then he picks me up and off to the bathroom we go.

I sit in the tub while my husband rubs my feet from the outside of the tub. The water has gone cold but we are too lost in conversing about everything that it doesn't even bother me.

"I want it to be a little boy," Dan says. "So I can have a son."

My stomach is in knots about what I am about to ask. "And what do you think would be a good name for our little boy?"

He stares down at the water before shrugging and working his fingers against the pads of my toes. "You choose."

I sigh. "Dan, I have, and you didn't like what I chose."

He rolls his eyes before dropping my foot into the tub. "That's because my Dad isn't an option."

"Why not?" I ask and he stands. "Don't walk away, please."

He doesn't respond, he just grabs my towel. "Come on, you're going to be a prune. Then, I might just have to ask for a divorce," he teases.

I roll my eyes. "Why can't it be his name?"

"Because I don't want my son tainted by my past, Grazia. Please don't put me in this predicament. Please," he pleads, helping me out of the tub, wrapping the towel around me.

I sigh. "Okay, if it's a boy what do you want his name to be?"

"Daniel," he answers. "Like me, I want my son to be named after me."

I smile at him. "Daniel James Howell Jr, I love it." He smiles. I am glad we finally came to an agreement.

"And if it's a girl?" I ask, he groans.

"I don't even want to think about a baby girl, I'd probably break her," he says. I laugh out loud.

"You're a clown," I tell him.

"And you're naked, did I pass inspection?" he asks. I roll my eyes but still get that burning feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"You always do," I whisper.

Then he takes me to bed and we lose ourselves in one another.

"Is Mr. Howell joining you today, Mrs. Howell?" the nurse asks, and I nod.

"He's running a bit late," I tell her. I'm sitting in the waiting room at the hospital, ready for a checkup. I am now six months along and showing. Dan was excited about my new found belly, me — not so much.

The door opens and I expect Dan to walk through smiling, but god was I wrong. In walks Catherine Bacardi supporting a small baby bump and a sad expression. I want to run and get out of here, but it's too late. She spots me.

She pauses, but not for long. She signs in and sits near me, but not too close. I want so badly to speak first, but she beats me to it. "How far along are you?" she asks, smiling sadly at me.

I look her up and down. "Six months," I answer and ask her the same question to be polite.

"Four months," Catherine says and I nod.

"Is it Dan's baby?" she asks, I feel sick just hearing his name from her mouth, I roll my eyes.

"Obviously it's his baby, he's my husband," I sneer at her. She nods. "How about you? Which guy's baby is it?"

She smiles sadly. "My boyfriend's, he's not here right now."

"Clearly," I answer. At that moment, Dan walks in. He looks toward me and sees Catherine, he stares in horror. I smile sarcastically at him, and that's when Catherine notices him, immediately she smiles and her mood gets better. I want to rip her hair from her head.

"Hello Dan," she says.

"Catherine," he greets. He sits next to me, on the other side, as far as he can get from her.

"It's good to see you again," she says. He nods.

"Mrs. Howell?" the nurse calls out, Dan and I stand at the same time.

Before I leave Catherine behind, I smile sardonically at her. "I'd say it was good seeing you, but it really wasn't. I wish you well in your pregnancy, however. By the way, if I ever hear that you're seeing my husband behind my back again, I will beat the shit out of you. Am I being clear? Good, I'm glad we could have this talk, take care of yourself, Cath."

Then I walk into the back room with so much pride I am almost skipping, Dan looks amused.

"I am so turned on right now," he whispers in my ear. "I want to lock the door and fuck you right here, right now."

It turns me on. I smirk. "Behave," I whisper.

After a twenty minute wait, and Dan's bored tactics, the doctor comes in and welcomes us back. "You look so good, Mrs. Howell. I'm told you put on quite some weight," she says. I groan.

"Unfortunately," I tell her, I'd be offended if I wasn't so tired.

"That's a good thing," she laughs, and Dan joins her. "So Dad, how are we feeling about this? Her date may seem far away right now, but it's approaching rapidly, trust me."

"I'm beyond excited," he says with such glee it's believable. I giggle.

"That's a good thing. How about you, Mum? How are you feeling?" she asks, putting on a pair of gloves.

I shrug. "I'm really tired. And I've been having bad pains right near my ribs," I tell her, she smiles.

"The baby is probably laying right on top of your ribcage, are you experiencing problems breathing, shortage of breath?" she asks, before lifting up the gown I changed into.

"Sometimes, yes," I answer. Dan looks worried, bless his heart.

"That's normal, don't worry about that. It's just another pregnancy thing, unfortunately. Are we ready to find out the sex?" she asks. I look to Dan, he looks over-eager.

I nod and laugh. "Yes."

She messes with the machine sat in front of her before she gives us a large grin. "The baby is giving us a clear view right between the legs!" she exclaims. She looks closely before turning to us and smiling. "I hope you're prepared for a little baby boy!"

Relief washes across Dan's face, I know this is what he was hoping for. I smile, for the first time in a long time, I feel completely at ease and comfortable with the future, or what I hoped the future would hold for both of my Dan's and I.

"Any big baby names planned?" Dr. Gomez asks while cleaning off my stomach of the gel used for the ultrasound.

"We're naming him after his father," I say. She nods, smiling.

"Good plan, I bet you're excited about that, Daniel," she says. He nods.

"You have no idea," he says. She laughs. "I'll leave you to get dressed, and you can make your next appointment with the ladies out front. This was a very good visit, continue taking your vitamins and I am asking you to stay on bed rest for a little while, just until you're no longer so tired and no longer have those pains you mentioned," she instructs.

"What does bed rest entail?" Dan asks.

Dr. Gomez raises an eyebrow. "It means she should refrain from being on her feet for long and should be resting, a lot," she answers him.

"Can I speak to you in the hall, please?" Dan asks, Dr. Gomez nods and they leave me to get dressed.

Once I am fully clothed, Dan comes back in the room grinning from ear to ear. I roll my eyes and grab my purse. "What did you bother my doctor about?" I ask, passing him and heading for the door.

"I just asked her if it was okay for you to have sex," he says. I stop suddenly and he runs right into me. I turn to him, a scowl on my face.

"You're addicted," I say. "Keep it up and you won't be getting any for a long, long time."

"I can wait," he says. "I have my hand."

"You're a pig," I say laughing because I can't help myself. "Can you make my appointment, please? Make it around your work schedule."

"Gotcha," he says, leaving me to talk to the women at the reception. Once he's made the appointment, we drive home and I go straight to the bedroom and get right into bed.

Dan climbs in beside me and wraps his body around mine. He breathes long breaths onto my neck and I am content. "When can I read your book?" he whispers. I tense.

"Whenever you want," I say.

"Now?" he asks. I roll over on my side to look at him. "Now," I agree.

I reach into my bedside table and pull out a copy of the book I still haven't gotten around to publishing and hand it to Dan. He holds it in his hands but looks at me, as if to reassure I really want him to read it. I nod and he opens the front page to see his father's signature. I wince as he breathes in heavily, his face twisted in pain. An open wound Dan has yet to heal, his father's death.

He looks at me and smiles."Well, let's see what this books all about." 

Three hours later, Dan closes the book, tears streaming down his flawless face.

"That was..." he trails off. I look skeptical at him. "The best thing I think I've ever read in my life," he says, then he smiles at me. "I wish I could have read it sooner."

"I'm sorry I kept it from you for so long," I whisper, my tiredness taking over me.

"Go to sleep, love, we'll talk in the morning, you had a long day."

I shake my head, my eyes closing against my will. "I want to know what your favorite part was."

"The part about us, of course," he laughs. I smile at him and open my eyes to peak at him.

"And how about your dad? How did you feel about that?" I ask him.

His smile falters. "It was okay," he mumbles, shrugging.

I pick my head up and my hand holds it. "Have you read his letters yet?" I ask.

He rolls his eyes and lays back onto his pillow, throwing an arm over his eyes like a child so he doesn't have to look at me. "No, I haven't."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" I ask, lying back like him.

"I don't know — the anger to fade a little, maybe," he says, shrugging.

"Well, I read mine, the night he died," I tell him. This catches his attention, he props himself up on his elbow and looks at me, but says nothing. "He said he liked the book," I tell him.

"Just 'liked' it?" he asks with raised eyebrows.

I laugh. "He loved it," I tell him. "And I bet he has a lot to say in your letters, too."

"He could have said all of the shit in that letter to my face if he wasn't such a coward," Dan says, his tone bitter.

"How do you ever expect to forgive your Dad if you're holding onto so much anger towards him, you loved him, true?" I ask.

He looks conflicted. He sighs and rolls back over. "Yeah, true, I loved him. But I had no respect for him, and you need to be able to respect someone to like them."

"Which is very true, but you also have to really care for someone to love them, so let go of all of this anger, and forgive your Father."

"I handle things the way I handle them, Grazia, do not start this, I didn't tell you how to forgive your Mother for everything she's done to you, don't do this to me," he says. And I release the fight from my hands.

"Fine," I murmur. "Just think about it. Okay? I don't want you to carry so much on your shoulders," I tell him.

"I'll think about it, I will."

"Okay," I say. "Now, it's story time. Tell me what happened between your father and that girl."

He rolls his eyes but begins the story anyway.

"We were only dating for about two months when she wanted to meet my parents," he starts. "She swore it was to build trust and love in our relationship, but I knew it was only to meet one of the wealthiest bastard's in this city. I ended up taking her anyway, about a week later, and she took the greatest liking to my dad, I thought it was only for the money."

"She fell in love with him, didn't she?" I ask.

He laughs. "Oh, boy did she ever. She had never looked at me the way she looked at him, she spent more time talking about how good he dressed than she did having sex with me," he says. This makes me laugh.

"So what happened?" I ask.

He sighs. "Well, we were dating for half a year, I wasn't that happy, but I thought it was just how much stress my parents were putting on me with everything. I just wanted to be happy with my girlfriend. I came home to find her sucking my dad's dick, and he didn't even look sorry. I yelled, I even hit him, but he just kept repeating it was for my own good — that I didn't see her for how she was and that she wasn't good enough for me. And, I guess it was for my own good in the long run. But he could have handled it differently, but who was he if he wasn't going out with a bang?" Dan says laughing.

"And what happened after that?" I whisper.

"I kicked them both out, I burned all of her belongings, I told my dad I was giving him an hour to get home and tell mum before I called her," he says. "And I guess he did tell her, but, she still didn't leave him. Even justified his reasons for doing it, I didn't talk to them for months."

I nod, playing with the hair at his neck. "I'm tired," he says.

Suddenly, I yawn and I grow tired, too. "Me too," I say, rolling over and pulling my pillow up to my face and lifting my legs up. "Goodnight, I love you."

Dan nuzzles his head between my shoulder and my neck, his breath fanning my cheek. "I love you more."

I am pulled from my sleep when a piercing pain goes right through my body. I scream out in pain, feeling like I've peed myself. I look down, my water has broken. After a long eight and a half months, I am going to be a mother.

Dan stirs beside me, not willing to wake up yet, I slap him. "Daniel!" I scream, he wakes with a jolt and looks at me in fear.

"What is it?" he asks, standing and coming to my side of the bed. He looks down and sees my situation. "The baby?" he asks.

"It's time," I say, breathing heavily. A smile breaks out across his face, and it would warm my heart if I wasn't having contractions like crazy. I squeeze his hand.

"Get the bag, get the car and get me the fuck out of here!" I exclaim and his face stills.

"Right, right," he panics."I'm sorry, I'm on it. I love you, Grazia." he says, kissing my head before running around our room like a madman and collecting everything we would need.

On the way to the hospital, we call our Mothers and they meet us there. When we get to our room, we wait hours and hours before I am dilated enough to give birth. Dan helps me through the entire thing, through the abuse I put his hand through, the harsh words I call him. Our mothers laugh at his flustered responses and reactions.

At 12:57 on June 2, we hear our son's first cry.

I wake with terror when I hear my son's cry. But Dan is up and quick to grab him before me, and I remember we are in the hospital and my son is already a whole day old. I stare at my two favorite males and smile.

"Are you still in pain?" Dan asks, holding our son so gently while he eats.

"Not much," I say. "Just tired."

He nods. "Do you have to use the bathroom?" he asks.

"If you're wondering if I have to take a shit yet so we can get out of this hospital, the answer is no," I tell him, laughing.

"Such language around our son," he says making a tsk noise. "I won't stand for it."

I roll my eyes. "Okay, Mr. "F-this-S-that," you curse more than anyone I know."

He laughs. "Go back to bed, Mrs. Howell. You're lacking a load of sleep," he says.

I yawn. "I just pushed a flippin' human out, you tell me how you'd feel," I say, but my words are slurred as sleep pulls me back into the darkness.

Once everything is settled at the hospital and we have named our son, we are released from the hospital and on our way home. Once we get there and we are settled in and our son is sleeping, I look around our apartment in disgust.

Dan notices and laughs. "What's with the face? The house is clean."

"That's the thing, it's not a house, it's a small apartment room in a small apartment building," I say. "We need to move."

Dan blinks. "Do you need some more sleep?"

"Dan," I whine. "I'm serious; we need to go house hunting, especially if we plan to make more babies."

He nods. "Okay, I'll make us appointments as soon as the little shit is up to it," he says, I groan.

"Do you have to refer to our son as, 'little shit'? Can't you be normal?" I ask.

He laughs. "Well we can't go around calling him Dan, now can we?" he asks.

"Well, it is his name, but no, why would we call him that? It's absurd!" I exclaim, he laughs.

"You're as sassy as ever," he says, but more to himself. "I meant, we will get confused around here, we need to give him a nickname."

"And what do you suggest is a good nickname?" I ask.

"D.J," he says.

I just stare at him, but it dawns on me that Dan is completely right. We would tire ourselves out if we ran around calling both of them Dan. so D.J. was a good nickname. I smile.

"D.J it is," I say. Dan smiles.

January 2, 2020

The Howells - Daniel Howell, Grazia Howell, D.J Howell, Elle Howell, and the newest addition to the family, Michael Howell, all applaud loudly when Elle blows out her birthday candle that is a big three. Grazia looks down proudly at her daughter and smiles.

"I want a big piece, Mummy," D.J begs.

And then Elle starts. "No, Mumma, I want the biggest piece, it's my birthday!"

"Enough," Dan calls out. Grazia looks to her husband, who has aged a few years, has a deeper voice and nicely grown facial hair. She adores him.

"You can both have a big piece," Grazia tells her children. After cutting the cake, and the kids have their stomach filled, she rocks her youngest child to sleep. After all of the children are asleep, Dan and Grazia lie awake in their bed.

Dan pulls Grazia close to him, kissing her neck, she giggles when she feels his erection pressed against her. "The kids are right in the other room," she tells him.

"Asleep," he reminds her.

She fights her inner demon warning her off of the idea of sex while her children are asleep in the house, but it's been so long since she's been able to touch her husband this way. So they have sex, over and over until they tire each other out.

April 12, 2032

Elle is fifteen and wants a boyfriend, while her father is against it, her mother can't help but feel sorry for her only daughter when she was fifteen, she was boy crazy, too.

"But Dad, he agreed to meet you guys first!" Elle argues, stomping her foot at her father's stubbornness.

"Fine, bring your friend over so I can tell him to his face he's not taking my daughter anywhere," Dan argues back with his daughter.

"Mum!" Elle begs. "Please, mum, I'm the only girl in my class he likes and the only girl without a date to prom."

Grazia was going to have a long talk with Dan about his unfairness towards their children. When D.J wanted to date girls, Dan was okay with the idea, was happy to agree with his son, but now that it was Elle, he was totally against it.

"Boys will take advantage of you, Elle, take it from someone who was once fifteen," Dan yells at his daughter.

"What a commercial response, Dad, how long did it take you to come up with it?" Elle asks.

"Do not talk to me that way, Elle, my answer is no," Dan is finished with the discussion.

"You are such an asshole!" Elle screams when she stomps up the stairs.

Grazia and Dan's mouths both drop. "Did she just say what I think she said?" Dan asks.

Grazia can't help but laugh. "She called you an asshole," she assures him. "And she was right, you're being an asshole." He turns to his wife in surprise. "An unfair asshole, at that."

"How am I being an unfair asshole?" he asks.

Grazia walks up the stairs. "Our daughter is going to prom with the nice young man who plucked up the courage to even ask her, and that is the final decision."

November 14, 2033

D.J. is graduating. Grazia cannot understand where the years went, but she is full of pride for her eldest son. Elle comes down the stairs, looking as beautiful as ever at only sixteen. "Jordan said he'd meet us at school," Elle tells her parents. Jordan — the boy who managed to steal her daughter's heart a year ago after the boy she thought liked her turned out to want something she wasn't offering — just like Dan had predicted.

Grazia's youngest — Michael, at only fourteen, is a wild animal, nothing like D.J at his age. She can't help herself but feel for her son, so many beautiful girls throwing themselves at him, and his father was cracking the whip on the dating rules for him.

When D.J comes down the stairs dressed in his cap and gown, she begins crying. He rolls his eyes but hugs his petite mother in his arms anyway. They drive to his school where he throws his arms around his girlfriend and kisses her passionately and Grazia can't help but feel happy for her son, he was an adult now, moving away to college, having a long-term, serious relationship, she was getting older.

After graduation, there is a small get-together at their house and their family and friends attend. Dan's mother, however, has been too sick to do anything but lay in a hospital bed. That night, D.J. and all of his friends take off on a road trip, she already misses him.

January 2, 2040

All of Grazia and Dan's children have moved out, D.J. - who is now twenty-five, got married and had a child that he named after his deceased grandmother, Jackie. Elle at only twenty-three, took harder to Grazia's mother's passing than Grazia did, is expecting her first, and Michael who is now twenty-one is in his second year of college to become an English teacher.

She was proud of her children, D.J on his way to becoming a surgeon, married, with a child, Elle, on her way to becoming a lawyer, was expecting and Michael was on his way to becoming a teacher, and though he had no plans to get married anytime soon, his parents were proud of him.

You watch them grow, they choose bad haircuts and bad relationships and bad friends, they cry at odd hours and Elle always smudged her makeup when she was learning how to use it, and the whole time you think: good god, but you are perfect to me.

Chapter Text

There you have it.

All at once, their lives together were over. They lived long, and though it was almost never easy, it was always worth it. Dan went first. He stopped breathing before his wife had, but that was okay, because she followed behind him with the most pretentious way about her, almost as if she was trying to show him up even in the hour of his death, and he loved it.

They didn't have a flashy love story, but boy did their children adore hearing their parents tell it, and Elle still flinched every time her Dad led them to the dark part of their relationship, and even if Grazia wanted to, the fact that he even cheated on her was so far gone and buried, it didn't even hurt anymore.

They didn't have a flashy love story - but God, did they love each other.

Grazia loved Dan though, so much that his entire universe expanded with her, he found the parts of himself he loved through her, and it's a beautiful thing to have a love you find yourself in, and even when the lights inside of both of them went out, they had such a love that the world still burned behind them.

They touched the world with their love, and it was not the big things that happened in their relationship that kept them together, it was the small things they did for each other, like how every night after they tucked the children in and Dan was too tired to stay awake he still would because he wanted to see if his wife's day was better than his so he can have half a peace of mind to sleep that night or the way Grazia always made his favorite meals and never complained if he had to work late; they were small, and to anyone else they made no sense and didn't matter, but to Grazia and Dan, they were the small things they carried to their deaths.

And when their children buried them side by side, they had no fear their parents were alone, they knew they were resting together, nothing had changed for the pair, and nothing ever would.

Ever.

But would it have been such love if they were different people?

Like Grazia Blanchard once said, "It is almost like a secret, sometimes I know what happens next and sometimes I don't. And maybe that's the beauty behind it all. Because, in reality, we don't know what's going to happen next. We don't know if we will survive what comes our way. We don't know if we're going to be here tomorrow.

I guess I like ending my stories that way."