Chapter Text
2025
She never wanted this.
She looked across the table and up at her husband. He looked like a fucking mess. His hair hadn’t been groomed in days, his glasses were dirty and slightly bent, and he had a layer of stubble covering his chin that simply did not fit his face.
She realized he was doing the same thing she was: looking down at his plate, forking around a crown or two of broccoli, glancing up at the other, then shifting in his seat and averting his gaze to the floor.
He wreaked of perfume that wasn’t hers, and she wanted to hate him.
He never wanted this.
He looked up at his wife and couldn’t help but think how gorgeous she looked. Her hair was disheveled, her face shiny with sweat, and her make-up fading.
He wished he could read her mind. If she had read his, she’d know he wanted nothing more than to break down, sobbing. He didn’t deserve her. She didn’t deserve his shit, and he knew it.
But she wouldn’t leave him, and for that, he wanted to hate her.
“Mom, why are you being weird?”
“Yeah, dad you’re acting kinda funny too.”
“What? Nothing’s weird, sweetie.” Amy reassured her 9-year-old daughter, Parker.
“Yeah, bud. Just finish your dinner; your mother worked very hard on this, and it's totally amazing.” Jake addressed Parker’s twin brother, Holden.
This was the first family dinner in months. It wasn’t going too well.
“Bullshit, you guys are fighting again.” Holden was going through a bit of a rebellious streak. He had eaten everything on his plate, except his vegetables.
“Language.” The two parents scolded simultaneously.
“He’s right..” Parker’s voice was small and intimidated; she hated to see her mother and father like this, and she could see right through their lies.
Parker and Holden were probably the smartest 9-year-olds in all of Brooklyn, which made their mother extremely proud. Holden had As in all of his classes, made friends easily, and was already showing promise as a basketball player, a trait neither parent could take credit for. Meanwhile, Parker was at the reading level of a 15-year-old and the math level of a 12-year-old. Her favorite show was Law and Order, and her favorite characters always managed to be the prosecutors, something that would make her one hell of a lawyer one day.
“We are not fighting. We just haven’t seen each other in a while, that’s all.” Amy flashed a smile that was only half genuine, and Jake returned the favor.
Ten years after Holt’s departure and Jake and Amy finally getting together, Amy had fulfilled her lifetime dream of becoming captain. Ever since Jake went to work for the FBI in 2020, before his age made him ineligible, the pair had grown incredibly distant. Amy knew Jake was living his childhood dream; Jake knew that this was always what Amy had wanted. They knew this would make them being together harder, but what they didn’t expect was the way the Federal Bureau of Investigation would harden Jake’s soft edges or the way the stress of perfecting her position as captain would give Amy these terrible migraines. But they had to be strong and stick together.. for Parker and for Holden.
Somewhere along the way, they got lost. And they couldn’t find their way back.
“Whatever, mom? Can I please be excused? I can’t eat this.” Holden said, stabbing his broccoli with the prongs of his fork.
“Holden, no. You have to ea—“
Amy’s speech got cut off by her husbands, “Yes, you can be excused. Go put your plate in the sink, wash up, and get ready for bed.”
“Thanks, dad.” Holden jumped from the table enthusiastically, plate of vegetables in hand.
Amy glared at Jake from across the table, and Jake couldn’t bring himself to meet her stare.
“Well, if Holden can be done, does that mean I can too? I ate almost all of my broccoli, I’m just full.” Parker proposed.
Amy simply sighed, and the girl took that as a yes before joining her brother in the kitchen.
When Jake’s eyes finally met his wife’s, he could barely recognize them. He hadn’t noticed before, but now that he was getting a good look, there was something inside them. Fiery specks of jealousy and anger among muted streaks of depression. He felt his gut drop to his feet as a sudden wave of guilt rushed over him. He felt like he was going to be sick.
When the fire inside her had died down, Amy asked solemnly, “How was Dallas?”
“It was fine. Stolz is in the middle of interviewing potential informants. I’ll probably have to go back in a couple weeks.”
“Oh.”
There was a beat of silence as the giggles coming from their kids in the kitchen filled the dead air. Amy felt her lips curl up into a tiny smile for half of a second, and Jake felt even worse.
“How’s the 9-9? Any good cases going on at the moment?”
“No.” She lied.
“How’s Charles? Last time I spoke to him, must have been like.. 4 months ago. He was making some weird, Italian chee—“
“Just.. be quiet. I feel a migraine coming on and I’m.. I’m not in the mood for this. Whatever this is. I mean Jesus Christ, listen to us! We sound like cousins at a fucking.. family reunion. Just stop talking and listen to the kids you never see. They’re older. They’re changing everyday. They miss their father. And that reminds me,” Amy stood up, taking her plate and wine glass with her, “don’t ever talk over me in front of my kids again.”
Jake could do nothing but stare, gaping in astonishment. This was the worst she’d ever been.
“Close your mouth. Clean yourself up, take a shower. The kids’ new bedtime is 9, and it’s your turn to tuck them in.”
She turned, her ponytail flipping over her right shoulder, and joined her kids in the kitchen.
Once Jake had processed what’d come out of her mouth, he leaned back in his chair and wiped his face with his hands. He pressed his knuckles hard against his eyes, keeping his tear ducts from spilling.
When he watched his wife with their twins, he saw the same happiness she had when they were first born. When they said their first words (Parker’s: balloon, Holden: poop). When she got promoted to captain.
But when she was looking at him, it was like all of that instantly drained. Like he was a burden, a weight on her shoulders she couldn’t wait to shake off. And Jake hated himself for it. He smelled his shirt, which wreaked of Peyton’s perfume and an airplane bathroom, and streaked a hand through his growing beard. He was a fucking mess who hated himself for who he was becoming and who he’d turned his wife into.
Jake took Amy's advice and decided to clean up before tucking his kids in. In the shower, he threw up on himself. At first he thought this was because of the slightly expired egg sandwich he’d had for breakfast that morning, or the terrible plane food, or maybe even Amy’s mediocre cooking. But when he realized it was due to the 8 glasses of whiskey he’d consumed on the plane, he let himself cry.