Chapter Text
When I stepped off the plane to see none other than Jughead Jones waiting for me, one thought crossed my mind: Why the fuck is he still wearing that goddamn beanie?
“Hey, you,” Jughead greeted me, pulling me into a warm hug. He was taller, broader, no longer the skinny kid I graduated with, but a man. Guilt washed over me when I saw the simple gold band on his finger.
“Jughead, I—you didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.” He took my bag from me. “This has got to be hard enough right now, and a taxi ride back to Riverdale would’ve cost you a fortune.”
I bit my lip and nodded. “Thanks. Any news?”
“Well, he was definitely feeling better when I left.” Jughead chuckled. “I mean, he was cursing up a storm about how he had to have a goddamn heart attack to get his daughter to come home.”
Guilt washed over me again, and I wanted nothing more than to march myself back to the ticket counter and buy myself a one-way flight back to Chicago. I was already missing my cozy apartment, my fluffy dog that had been with me since I rescued him as an undergrad.
“I don’t know how I’m going to face him, Jughead.”
“Your dad? What are you talking about? He’s not mad, not really. I mean, you fly him out to Chicago like twice a year and you meet him in New York all the time. It’s–” He stopped when he saw my face. “Oh, you didn’t mean your dad.”
I shook my head. “No. Dad gives me shit, but he doesn’t mean it. I’m more concerned with–” I couldn’t bring myself to even say his name.
“I know.”
“Has he been there?”
“Hasn’t left his side. He’s the closest thing he has to a father, you know.”
“I know, which is why I almost didn’t come. I can’t bear the thought of facing him.” I clung tightly to my purse, and my head started to throb. When we stepped out of the airport into the cool night air, it was bone-chilling instead of refreshing. I sucked in a breath, and my lungs burned.
“He hasn’t been mad in a long time, like six years, eleven months.”
I scoffed. “It’s not his anger I’m worried about. I broke his fucking heart.”
“You broke each other’s hearts,” Jughead corrected. “He would have hated himself if he didn’t let you go.”
“We could have been happy together,” I said softly.
“Not if you were stuck in Riverdale.” Jughead led me to his car and put my bag in the backseat. “No matter how much he loved you, you would never be happy in Riverdale, going to Sweetwater Community. You knew that, he knew that, we all knew that. You had to go.”
I bit my lip, holding back tears as I buckled my seatbelt. “We could have made it work.”
“It’s been seven years. When are you going to stop telling yourself that?”
Resting my forehead on the cool glass of the window, I shook my head. “Probably never.”
“That’s not healthy.”
“My therapist keeps telling me that.” I sighed, my breath fogging up the glass. “I don’t know why I can’t let go of a one year, high school relationship from seven fucking years ago. It’s downright pathetic. Like, day to day, I’m fine. I have friends, a social life, a great job, everything, but then I try to start a relationship, and I turn into one big basket case of unresolved emotional baggage.”
Jughead sighed slowly. “You’re going to have to face him, you know. It’s not like you can spend any length of time in the Southside, with your dad, surrounded by Serpents, and avoid him completely.”
“I know.” I sat up and reached over to squeeze his hand. “And Jughead?”
“Yeah?”
“I am so sorry for missing your wedding.”
“Dad!” I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw him sitting in his usual armchair, a glass of water in one hand and his phone in the other.
“Hey, kiddo.” His face cracked into a smile when he saw me. “It’s been too long.”
I rushed over and pulled him into a hug. “I was so fucking worried when the doctors called me, Dad. Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”
He laughed, holding me close. “No promises, kid.”
“I swear to god, Dad, I will move my ass home to burn every last cigarette and toss every last beer,” I warned. “Don’t think I won’t.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, kid, don’t worry. You’re not the only one purging the house.” He gestured at the fridge. “Take a look—the kid cleared out everything that he deemed bad for my heart.”
My heart thumped in my chest. Even he wouldn’t say his name in front of me. It must have been obvious how much of a basket case I was.
“He left when I told him you landed,” he said. “First time I’ve gotten him out of here since the doctor’s cut me loose.”
Biting my lip, I shook my head. “I guess he doesn’t want to see me as badly as I don’t want to see him.”
“Not true. His eyes fucking light up when he heard you were coming home. He only left because he knew you’d want him to. I mean, the kid’s no moron about why you never visit.”
I sighed, walking into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water. “Dad, this visit is about you, not him.”
“And how long do you plan to stay?”
“I took off the rest of the week.”
“And you plan to avoid him for that long how?”
I shrugged. “A combination of hiding myself in my room and drinking exclusively on the Northside.”
“So you’re not going to visit Toni or Fangs, maybe F.P., Laura?”
“I don’t know, Dad.” I clenched my jaw in frustration. “I mean, yeah, I’d love to see them, but I’m sure as hell not setting foot in the Wyrm.”
“Whatever you say, kid, whatever you say.”
I sat down on the couch, fixing my gaze out the window. It was the same view from seven years earlier. It almost made me feel like nothing had changed. Of course, that wasn’t the case. Everything had changed.
After three days in Riverdale, I was going stir-crazy. I had gotten to the point of getting in the truck and just driving down the Sweetwater River highway. It used to be my go-to route when I needed to get away, and it still worked well. Unfortunately, Laura hadn’t stopped texting me since I was home. Although I had seen her semi-regularly since I moved, it had been months since we’d seen each other.
My phone rang from the seat next to me, and against my better judgment, I picked up.
“Hey, Laura.”
“Hey there, Miss Social Recluse. Come to the Wyrm.”
“Not likely.”
“Oh, fuck off. He’s with your Dad, which usually means he’ll be gone ‘till the old man goes to sleep.”
I rolled my eyes. While everyone else felt awkward enough to dance around the subject, Laura was not having it.
“Fine.”
“Finally. I’ll have a whiskey-coke waiting for you.”
“Make it a double.”
I could practically hear her smile. “See you soon.”
“See you soon.”
When I got to the Wyrm, it was just starting to get dark, and the familiar glow of the bar made my chest hurt. I wondered if that was what a heart attack felt like—after all, it might run in the family. Steeling my nerves, I pushed open the door, and it was like going back in time.
The bar looked almost exactly the same—the same dingy bartop, the same red barstools, the same neon PBR sign behind the bar. The only thing I could spot that was different was the TVs. They had been replaced. I couldn’t help but smile—the cracked TVs had always been a pet peeve of his, so it made sense that he replaced them when he took over as manager.
I pulled my sleeves down past my hands, grateful that I had worn a long sweater. I could practically feel the snake insignia burning a hole in my forearm. I’d never gotten rid of it, even when it meant I had to be extra careful what I wore to work. A lawyer with a gang tattoo wasn’t exactly a good look.
“Well looks who’s here,” a deep, sing-songy voice called across the bar. “Back from the dead.”
I looked over to see Fangs sitting on a barstool. My jaw almost dropped. I didn’t think it was possible, but he had somehow gotten both bigger and hotter. “Fangs!” I walked over, my low heels tapping the wood floor. “Oh my god, it’s so good to see you.”
He stood up and pulled me into a tight hug, his muscled arms wrapping around me that felt infinitely familiar. “It’s been too long.”
“It has.” Before I could get another word out, I felt a soft touch on my shoulder.
“Alright, my turn.”
“Toni.” I couldn’t contain my smile. Toni had barely aged a day. Her pink hair was gone, replaced with her natural brunette, and her style had grown up a little bit, but she was still the same Toni.
“Hey, girl.” She hugged me, and she still smelled like vanilla. “I’ve missed the hell out of you.”
“I’ve missed you too.”
“Okay, okay, everyone’s had their turns, and now it’s mine.”
Recognizing the voice immediately, I turned, my grin growing. “Laura Fogarty, you better be glad I came.”
Laughing, she nearly tackled me in a hug. “You don’t know how good it is to see you!” Lifting me off my feet, she swung me around as I shrieked with surprise.
“Laura, you bitch!” I laughed.
She laughed harder, setting me back down for another hug. “God, I fucking missed you. It is so good to see your Ivy League ass in Riverdale again.”
I rolled my eyes. “I guess it’s not the worst thing being back.”
We settled in for a drink, and the conversation flowed easily. Jughead got there a few minutes later, and it almost felt like old times again. If anyone was hyper-aware of the ex-boyfriend sized hole in the group, no one showed it.
As we talked, I could practically feel his arm around me, resting in the spot just above my hips, holding me close like he needed the contact. I swallowed the lump in my throat and washed it down with another sip of my drink. Laura had lived up to her promise, and it was strong.
“So, how’s Chicago?”
I shrugged. “So far, I like it. I don’t know how long I’m going to be there, though, because I’ve been getting some recruitment calls from firms in New York.”
“I bet your dad would love that,” Toni observed.
Smiling, I shook my head. “Yeah, he’s made it very clear where he’d rather I work. It’s hard, though, because I do really like the firm I’m at now.”
The conversation was light, easy, and the drinks flowed freely. We talked about Laura’s job teaching, Fangs’s promotion to manager at the garage, Jughead and Betty’s latest house drama, and Toni’s new Master’s degree. After a while, the phantom arm faded, and I finally started to relax. That should have been my cue to get the hell out.
Behind me, the door to the bar opened, and Laura cut off mid-sentence. The look in her eyes told me all I needed to know. As my heart sped up to a lightning pace, I gulped down the rest of my drink and turned around.
He was older, for sure. His hair was longer, and slight laugh lines creased his eyes. There was a new scar close to his hairline, and he seemed impossibly taller. The Serpent coat he was wearing wasn’t new, but it wasn’t the same one I’d borrowed so many times. Clearly, he was too big for that one, having filled out from a teen to a man. His lips were the same, as were his hands. I couldn’t look away from his hands. Then, I was forced to look at his eyes. Of course, they were the same, exactly the same. In fact, they even held the same hurt expression I’d last seen over seven years earlier.
“Hey, Sweet Pea."