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Angel wasn’t exactly surprised when he got the call. A prison in Mexico informing him that his husband had been arrested for alleged murder? It almost felt inevitable, given how little he knew about Spencer’s life these days. Since Spencer had moved his mother into his old apartment, they’d barely seen each other. Angel couldn’t even remember the last time they’d shared a bed.
“I’ll be on my way. Don’t let him talk to anyone until I get there.”
When Angel arrived, it was impossible to ignore the contrast between his appearance and the dingy, worn-down prison. He was clearly overdressed, but then again, Angel had always known how to make an entrance. His outfit was sharp—elegantly tailored—and his look was completed by a wide-brimmed hat and dark sunglasses, which made him look more like someone attending a glamorous event than visiting a prison.
“Well, hello, sweetie,” Angel greeted his husband, his smile forced but polished. Spencer, however, didn’t seem even remotely happy to see him.
“What are you doing here?” Spencer asked, not even trying to mask the sharpness in his tone.
“I’m visiting my criminal husband, apparently,” Angel replied, adjusting his hat and glasses before revealing the annoyed glare behind them as he sat down.
“What were you thinking? Sneaking out of the country… I asked you if you were doing anything stupid to help your mom, and you said not to worry. Well, this seems pretty damn stupid!”
Spencer looked away, clearly ashamed. “You know I didn’t do it.”
Angel sighed, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. “Of course, you didn’t. I’d hope that if you ever actually decided to commit murder, you’d be smart enough not to get caught.”
Before Spencer could respond, familiar voices echoed through the room. His team had arrived.
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After what felt like an eternity, Spencer finally made it back to Quantico. It should’ve been a moment of relief, even if it was under the shadow of an international criminal case. For just a second, he allowed himself to believe that everything might turn out alright in the end.
“The FBI won’t be representing Reid. He crossed the border and didn’t notify the Bureau. We’re on our own.”
Those words made Angel’s heart drop. A sinking feeling settled in his chest, and a small voice in the back of his mind whispered that things were only going to get worse.
The next morning, Angel went to deliver the bad news to Spencer. His tinted glasses hid the redness of his eyes, a subtle shield against the evidence of the night he’d spent crying and drinking. But he wasn’t about to let Spencer see how much he’d cared—not when, for months now, Spencer had barely bothered to ask how his day had been.
“Spencer, are you even listening to me? You’re on your own with this.” Angel’s voice cracked, but Spencer seemed lost in thought, as if only half-present.
Finally, Spencer looked up, breaking free of whatever trance he was in. “It’s fine. The team will prove I was framed.”
Angel rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in frustration. “Sure, but until then, we need to lawyer you up. I can get you the best team—people who’ll make sure you don’t set foot in prison.”
“I don’t want your dirty lawyers,” Spencer snapped, his defenses rising. “I’m getting out of this fair and square—no blackmailing or paying off judges. Besides, Emily already found someone to represent me.”
Angel clenched his jaw, biting back a sharper response. He exhaled slowly before speaking again. “Fine. Then I’ll cover the legal fees and bail.”
“Rossi already offered,” Spencer added, shaking his head.
Angel let out a bitter chuckle, trying to mask his growing frustration. “So, Emily got you a lawyer, Rossi’s covering the money... let me guess, JJ is handling things with your mom?” His voice dripped with sarcasm, but the smirk on his face quickly faded when he saw Spencer’s downcast eyes.
“Of course she is,” Angel muttered under his breath, the words stinging as they left his lips.
“My mom just feels more comfortable with her—especially after your transition…” Spencer started, his words trailing off.
“She doesn’t recognize me anymore, and she keeps forgetting I’m your husband,” Angel finished the sentence for him, the weight of it settling heavily between them. He didn’t mean to sound bitter; after all, Diana’s amnesia wasn’t anyone’s fault. But it still hurt every time he heard her ask if Spencer was ever going to propose to that nice lady he always talked about.
Angel crossed his arms, his frustration bubbling over. “So, what do you expect me to do? Sit at home, rocking in a chair, doing embroidery and writing you letters, waiting patiently like some perfect little wifey?”
He was visibly annoyed, but Spencer reached out and took his hand, his touch soft despite the tension. “No, but you’re the best agent I know. I need you to keep your head in the game. I trust you’ll figure this out. I trust you’ll get me out.”
As much as Angel wanted to stay mad, Spencer had a way of making his heart flutter with the simplest words. It frustrated him how easily Spencer could still do that.
“Fine. You win.”
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“Angel? I thought you’d be staying with Emily to handle Reid’s case?”
Rossi’s voice behind him made Angel stifle a sigh. He turned around, forcing his best fake smile, knowing he was expected to look at least a little shaken by his husband’s arrest.
“Yeah, well, Spencer and I agreed I wouldn’t get too involved. He knew if I stayed behind, I’d spend all my time trying to lawyer him up against his wishes.” Angel closed the notebook in his hand, a chuckle escaping him as he glanced at the lawyers’ names and numbers scribbled inside. “He was right.”
Angel was thankful the team still had other cases to distract him. Without them, he would’ve already gone mad from all the noise in his head. He stayed late in the office, pouring over paperwork, unwilling to return to his too-empty house. He should’ve been used to the loneliness by now. Spencer had been staying in his old apartment for a while, but this time felt different, and Angel knew it.
“Can we talk?”
Angel turned to see Rossi standing at the door of his office.
“Oh, sure... I thought everyone had left already.” He stood up from his desk and followed Rossi to his office. As soon as he entered, though, he could feel the tension in the air.
“You want to divorce Spencer?” Rossi's voice held a note of shock, almost offended.
Angel tried to play dumb. “What? Where did you get that idea?”
Rossi handed him the notebook Angel had been holding earlier that morning. “Well, the list of divorce lawyers written here sorta gave me a clue.”
“Where did you get that?!” Angel snatched the notebook from him, glaring.
“You left it on the jet. I took a peek, I’m sorry,” Rossi said, sounding like a scolding parent. “But I thought you were trying to help Spencer get out of prison.”
“What’s it to you? You’ve been divorced three times already!” Angel snapped defensively.
Rossi’s expression softened despite the harsh response. “Angel, I’m sure whatever’s going on between you two can be fixed.”
Angel huffed, the weight of it all pressing down on him. “Rossi, not that I owe you an explanation about my marriage, but if you must know—Spencer and I haven’t been living together since he brought his mother from Houston. I didn’t even know he was flying to Mexico every other weekend for some experimental treatment for her. We may still be married, but we haven’t been husbands in a long time.” His voice wavered as he continued, “I’m just so tired of lying in an empty bed, staring at the ceiling, and asking myself, are we happy?”
Rossi could see how long Angel had been holding this in. His gaze softened with understanding. “But do you think this is the best moment to make such a decision?” he asked gently.
“No,” Angel admitted, his voice quieter now. “That’s why the quicker we sort out his case, the sooner...” His words trailed off, but Rossi understood what he meant. Without saying another word, Angel turned and left the office.