#after he goes on a two-week cruise in the Bahamas where one of his friends is getting married | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

goldenlikedayl1ght · 1 year ago

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timeless - j. kiszka

a/n: this one is super long and holy shit i'm pretty proud of it :) my other song choice for this was wii sports resort theme song. warnings: cursing, past infidelity, some angst, stupid choices, allusions to sex, lots of wedding talk, readers family all being chill, reader being feminine (no real descriptions though) but they wear a wedding dress and are 'mrs', uh, petnames, josh being flirty. my qualifications for writing this is that my dad got married on a cruise but it will be inaccurate, whoops. word count: 10.2k words summary: you decide to be kind after being cheated on. it spirals out of control, thanks to josh kiszka. pairing: josh kiszka x reader now playing: timeless (taylor's version) (from the vault) - taylor swift "and sometimes there's no proof, you just know/you're always gonna be mine/we're gonna be/i'm gonna love you when our hair is turnin' gray"

You book the cruise about six months before you break up with him.

Your whole family is going, you tell him, and it’ll be about five years since you got together when you go, it’ll be romantic!

When he proposes to you two months later, you decide to get married on the cruise. You’ll have the ceremony with your closest family, and then friends will be able to celebrate with you two when you get back, you’ll throw parties!

You catch him cheating on you about six months before you leave for the cruise.

At that point, you had already reached out to plan the wedding with the cruise line, you have your wedding outfit, you won’t be getting your deposit back. He will not be going, he says, because what sadist would go with your ex-fiancé’s family to the Bahamas for two weeks after they find out about your infidelity?

Your sister convinces you to go, telling you that your parents can renew their vows and you don’t even have to go.

You can get over the last of your feelings towards your ex while sipping a pina colada on a beach somewhere.

And this, dear reader, is the story of how you meet your husband on that cruise.

• • •

Day One:

Okay, so you don’t mean for him to be your husband, really. It goes something like this:

Your sister picks you up and you climb into this car with your parents, your sister, your nephew and your brother and his wife.

As your brother and his wife canoodle, still in their honeymoon phase, you make sure your nephew doesn’t spill his juice, and you ask yourself, is this it? Are you meant to have random sex and live a life of freedom yet loneliness and eventually leave everything to your nephew when you croak?

Maybe it isn’t that dramatic, but you still feel shitty!

You’re waiting at the port, sitting by the help service desk as you wait to board the ship. You’re entirely too occupied trying to fend off thoughts of your ex, yet you hear something that just catches your ears just right.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kiszka, I can offer you a voucher for your next trip with us, but unless a stranger here offers you their ticket, I’m afraid you’re not going on this cruise. We’re all booked up.”

The man the employee is talking to looks like he just came from a trip to the Bahamas, with this wild curly hair and sandals on. He has these, almost goofy, sunglasses on. He stands with a few other people, one who looks just like him with straight hair.

His body language seems angry, but he’s handsome. And you feel it.

You feel an attraction that you haven’t felt since your ex.

And then you remember your ex, and the ticket in your bag that was abandoned by him, and you realize that someone can give this man their ticket.

You realize you can help this angry, handsome man.

You glance at your sister.

“I’m going to do something sort of crazy, and I need you to support me no matter what. Can you do that?” She smiles.

“Always and forever.”

You get up and grab the ticket from your bag, heading over to the counter where the man stands with the employee.

“And I’m telling you,” The man says, and you almost swoon at the stranger’s voice, “These are my credit card bills! My payment for this trip is right here, there has to be something you can do—”

“Excuse me?” Heads turn towards you, and the employee sighs.

“I’ll be with you in just a few minutes—”

“Oh, no, I—” You sigh, and hand the employee your ex-fiancé’s ticket. “This guest won’t be joining us on the trip, and since I paid for his trip, I’d like to give his ticket to the gentleman here.”

Translation: This guest was a lying piece of shit who broke my heart and was supposed to marry me on this trip, and since I footed the damn bill for aforementioned piece of shit, I’d like for the handsome stranger here to stay in my room.

The stranger looks at you like you just saved his life. Your heart swells.

You all look back to the employee, who looks exhausted.

“We can do that,” They scan the ticket, and start reading your ex-finance’s information. “Okay, so, Joshua Kiszka is going to be the name on the room and the ticket,” she starts, “He’ll have to stay in your room, is that okay?” They glance at you. You turn to Joshua.

“Are you an axe murderer or a creep?”

“Not that I know of.” He answers. You smile.

“That’s totally okay.”

“Alright,” The employee glances at their computer again, typing some stuff. “So, there’s two other things. Number one, there’s the romantic dinner for two this Saturday. Is he going to that?”

“Yes,” You answer, not thinking about it. You smile at the stranger, and he smiles back.

“And the wedding.” The stranger’s smile drops. Yeah, that was understandable.

Your hand lands on his arm, and you become vulnerable.

“Just, go with it for a while, okay? We’re not getting married on this trip, I promise.” You smile, and this seems to reassure Joshua, who turns back to the employee.

“We’re a couple of soon to be newlyweds, baby.” He smirked.

The Employee seems less sure. But they scan the ticket and type a few more things into their computer before handing the ticket to Josh.

“All set. I’d recommend boarding together to get your keycards and everything sorted out. Please step to the side so I can help the next guests.”

You oblige, and suddenly it hits you. You’re a stranger standing in front of a family after you just saved their vacation. You just invited a stranger to stay with you. Joshua looks at you.

“Well, that was a crazy way to ask me on a date.” He tells you, and you laugh.

“Did it work?”

“Absolutely, this vacation would’ve been ruined without you!” He grinned. “I’m Josh.”

You give him your name, and you can just see the relief on his face. He introduces you to his family, and you meet his brothers, Jake, Sam, and Danny, as well as his sister and parents. They’re all lovely. They begin to call boarding numbers, and Josh takes his backpack from his twin.

“I’m gonna go with them to figure this whole thing out, we’ll meet for lunch later?” They all agree, and Jake mentions how nice it was to meet you, and you head back to your family to board.

Your family looks extremely confused.

“Everyone, this is Josh—There was a problem with his ticket, and I figured since we had an extra, we can hangout with Josh for the trip.” Your sister laughs, and your nephew copies her giggles.

“Don’t worry, we’re not going to do anything wild together, I’m just so grateful that I’m actually going on this trip.” He said honestly. Then he turns to you. “So, what’s this about a wedding?” You laugh, and link your arm with his, a bit of a bold move on your part, but you’re feeling bold. For the first time in months, you want someone, and it’s making you feel bold.

Mostly, for the boarding process, you stand in pairs. You and Josh, your parents, your brother and sister-in-law, and your sister and nephew. You’re waiting in line when you start to explain.

“So, the wedding was originally supposed to be mine, yes. But, the groom turned out to be, uh..” You try to put it nicely, “Not the one.” Is the best thing you settle on, “So we’re going to use it as a way to have my parents renew their vows, or something.” You explain. Josh nods,

“But you realize that we’ll be regarded as the happy couple the entire time we’re on board, right?” You laugh at this idea of this dude you barely know being in love with you and marrying you.

“Josh, you don’t strike me as the type to shy away from the spotlight.” It’s just something about him that gives you the impression that when he walks into the room, he is the center of everyone’s attention. But he just laughs, almost a tad shy.

“Fine, then I’m making up a wild story about our meeting.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you remember it, right? When you invited me to be a guest at a wedding for a man you were in love with but fell in love with me through out the night?”

“Why does it always have to be about weddings with you, Josh?”

“You know me, I’m a romantic.” You roll your eyes at this, and you hand your boarding passes to the person at the podium, who scans them, and then glances to you.

“Enjoy your stay on the Princess of the Ocean!” The ship name almost makes you laugh, “And congratulations to you both! We hope your wedding and honeymoon is all you want and more!” You realize they must have your name on file, or something comes up when they scan your passes.

You don’t get a chance to respond, because Josh’s arm is around your waist, and he says,

“Everyone’s been lovely so far, thank you. We’re having a great time already, right, Doll?” Your face flushes.

“It’s a dream, honey.” You respond and kiss his cheek. The employee wishes you a great trip, and you head off to the ship.

“I guess we’re going to have to get used to that, huh?” You don’t move from his arm around you.

“I guess so, honey.” You tell him.

You make your way onto the ship, wondering if this could be different. When you get to your cabin, it’s decorated with wedding stuff, and it makes you and Josh both laugh with red faces. On the bed, are towels in the shape of swans, who make a heart with their necks.

Josh tells you they look just like the two of you, and you can’t help but get this feeling that it’ll be impossible to stay away from him while on this ship, no matter how big it is.

• • •

Day Three:

But then you don’t see much of Josh for the second day of your cruise, finding your day full of drinking and running around with your nephew, who you can’t help but indulge in all the kid stuff. You take him on the slides, in the pools, to bumper cars. You get him a Shirley Temple when he gives you puppy dog eyes.

But during your second day at sea, you sort of want to see Josh. He’s out of the room before you even wake up, even though he got back to the cabin after you went to sleep last night. You miss your fake husband.

So, when you see him by a bar around noon, you approach him.

“You look familiar,” you start, “Do I know you?” You ask, a playful smile on your face. He laughs.

“Could be, we’re getting married next week.” You giggle and ask the bartender for a tropical, fruity, alcoholic drink. Josh asks him to make it two. “I want to say thank you again, for letting me take your douchebags ticket.” You smile at his hatred towards an ex he’s never met.

“Don’t worry about it. Why’d you decide to come on this cruise in the first place?” You ask curiously.

“Well, we got back from tour about a month ago, and we knew we’d be wanting to take a vacation that doesn’t involve preforming anywhere.” This leaves you with more questions then answers, and he sees it on your face, “We play in a band, my brothers and I. We scheduled a tour for this year and wanted to reward ourselves with some relaxation.” Huh. “How about you?”

“Well, my parents wanted me to go with them to celebrate their retirement. Then, it was to get married because that worked out so well.” You know you sound bitter about it. It’s because you are.

“Well, I like your new husband more anyways.” He tells you. It makes you laugh.

“We’re are you from?”

“Michigan, originally. I live in Nashville, now.”

“For music purposes, right?”

“Right.” He takes a sip of his drink, “And you?”

“Atlanta, Georgia.” You told him. “But I don’t know, that cities way too small when you have someone living there that you thought you’d marry.” You confess. “What type of music do you play?”

“Oh, we’ll play anything, but we’re known for our rock and roll.” He smiles.

“Well, what do you like to play?”

“I really love all of it, but my true passion is film. I sing. I’m partial to singing jazz.” He explains.

“Huh..”

“And what about you? What do you do for work?”

“Nothing as cool as singing for a rock and roll band.” You admit. “I’m a teacher. I’ve taught a lot of groups, but my favorite is high schoolers, honestly. I teach English.”

“Oh, an Academic?” You laugh.

“Shut up, film boy.” He fakes a hurt gasp, placing his hand on his chest.

“I’m hurt, Doll. I don’t know if I want to marry you anymore.”

“That’s a shame. We already put the deposit down, I’m not getting my money back.” He laughs with you this time.

You talk a while more, and before you know it, your stomach is rumbling for lunch. He walks you to the popular lunch spot on board and decides to join you for lunch.

You both wind up taking bites from each other’s plates.

“Do you like grapefruit, Doll?”

“God no, I was sick once, so my mom gave me one, supposed to be very good for you,” You pause, “I threw up while eating it and haven’t eaten a grapefruit since.”

“Aw, that’s a shame, it wasn’t the grapefruit’s fault!”

“Yeah, but now I associate the grapefruit with throwing up.” You told him.

“I’m sure the grapefruit longs for your forgiveness, Doll.”

“Shut up, Honey.”

• • •

Day Five:

You wind up spending all of day three with Josh, but you don’t see him much on day four—It’s your first day at the beach you’re docked at, so you both want to spend it with your family.

You learned a lot about him on day three—His favorite foods, his favorite movies, music, stories of him and his brothers on tour, growing up. He learns that you went to school in Florida before moving to Georgia, and that you have a scar on your stomach from getting your appendix removed when you were nine.

Learning about each other makes you yearn for him.

The fifth day, though, he’s still in the room when you get up. He grins at you when you wake up, coming out of the bathroom amid brushing his teeth. His hair is wet from a shower, and you sit up, deciding you desperately need a shower.

“Morning, Pumpkin.” He grins as you grab clothes for the day from your bag.

“Morning, sunshine.” You grumble.

“Do you want to go to the beach with me today?” He asks.

You grin and nod, “Sure. Sounds cool. Just let me shower.”

When you finally head off the ship to the beach, Josh has decided he needs to hold your hand. It’s a requirement, he decides.

“We’re betrothed, after all!” He defends.

It makes you laugh, but you’re happy to hold his hand. The sun beats down on you, but there’s this warmth that feels good. You’re unsure if it’s from the sun or from Josh, but you don’t ask. You just walk with him.

There’s something that’s just easier with Josh around, something that requires no thinking. You can’t really put your finger on it, but you love being around him.

You pass this private beach that you must pay to get into. Josh, in his infinite wisdom, decides the two of you can have fun with this.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, as he takes your hand and drags you off to a shop with a sign that says, ‘locally made jewelry’ in it’s window.

You’re suspicious, but you would follow him to the end of the earth.

“Absolutely not.” You respond, but make no effort to stop him from walking you to the store. He looks around for a second before pulling you over to the ring section.

“Pick out something nice, we might as well milk the whole marriage thing.” You wind up choosing a delicate looking ring that has gold flower decals and a small black diamond in the middle, which you’re pretty sure isn’t real.

You ask the employee to try it on, and it fits like a glove.

Josh can’t take his eyes off you with this ring he’s about to buy for you.

“We’ll take it.” He says to the employee, handing him his card before you can object, and you look to him.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“We’re getting married, of course I did.” He jokes, but then he becomes more serious for a moment. “Plus, I told you, I owe you a million times because I wouldn’t be here without you.” He says softly.

You lean forward and kiss his cheek.

“It was my pleasure.” You say softly. The employee is done ringing you up, and he looks like he’s on the verge of tears.

“I just want to say how happy I am for you two. You’re a beautiful couple.” He hands you the ring and you slip it onto your ring finger.

“Thank you.” You tell him, smiling, and admiring your new engagement ring. Josh wishes him a good day and takes your hand to head back to the beach, where the person letting people in stops you and Josh, telling you the cost to get into the beach. Josh goes for his wallet before smoothly throwing in,

“Thanks for this, it’s such a nice place to spend our time before the wedding. One last quiet moment before the chaos leading up to it.”

“Oh, when are you getting married?” She asks.

“Next Thursday.” You smile. “We’re getting married on the cruise ship over there.” You point, and she shakes her head.

“Don’t worry about the admission fee, I remember how chaotic it was to get married in a familiar place, let alone on a boat.” She chuckles softly and lets you pass.

“Thank you so much!” You say gratefully, never letting go of Josh’s hand. He smiles to you.

“You’re a natural.” He says, as soon as you’re far away from the employee.

“Are you kidding? I’m literally shaking, I keep thinking someone’s gonna call our bluff on the whole wedding thing! I don’t know how you’re managing it.” You tell him honestly.

“I think you’re doing great.” He tells you. “Besides, we’re technically not lying! You were supposed to get married next Thursday on the ship, it just wasn’t supposed to be with me and it’s now for your parents.” He reminds. This is true, you suppose. Plus, with Josh, it’s so easy for you to lie and say he’s in love with you or that he’s the love of your life.

The beach is beautiful—It’s clean and quiet, and you both lay in beach chairs that have been laid out for two.

You’re just laying there for a while, but eventually you turn your head to admire him for a while. He wears a short-sleeved button up, that’s this light blue color. It’s opened, exposing his torso. He has on swim trunks too, and his sandals are discarded on the sand. He also wears this pretty necklace that matches his sunglasses.

“I can feel you looking at me.” He says softly, not turning his hand. Your face flushes and you turn your head back and close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of the sun on your skin.

“Sorry. You’re just really gorgeous.” You confess. He smiles.

“Doll, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you had a crush on me.”

“You’re the one that bought me a ring, Honey.”

“Touche.” Your conversation is cut short when someone approaches you with two pina coladas from the bar. On the house for the happy couple, he says.

After a quick conversation with him, you find out he runs this tropical paradise, and that he’s celebrating twenty years with the woman who waived your admission fee. They got married on this very beach; he tells you. You thank him profusely and when he leaves, you and Josh raise your glasses to each other in celebration for your faux marriage.

“Bajabule.” He hums, taking a sip of his drink.

You think you can get used to being engaged to Josh Kiszka.

• • •

Day Seven:

For those of us in the crowd who have never been on a cruise, there’s always a day on board where you have to dress fancy and nice, and the captain makes this speech, it’s called the captain’s dinner.

When you got engaged to your fiancé, you decided that on this captain’s dinner night, you would book a private, romantic dinner to have a moment of peace before the wedding.

And, like everything else regarding your ex and the wedding, it was nonrefundable, and you were planning on either doing it on your own or giving it to someone else who could enjoy it.

Then, you met Josh. And you had a reason to go.

So, you ask Josh that morning to come with you to this dinner before you leave for breakfast.

“Like a date?” He asks. You smile. Except for swimming and showering, you haven’t taken off your ring.

“Exactly like a date. Be my date tonight, Honey.”

He puts his hand on your cheek.

“Anything for you, Doll.”

So, you spend the whole day excited for your date. You have breakfast with your parents, and then spend the afternoon with your sister and brother, while your sister-in-law takes your nephew and parents to the beach.

You tell them about Josh, and they share this look, you’re not sure what it means, you’re too busy admiring your ring and gushing about how funny and handsome he is.

Your sister sits on your bed, all dressed with her son on her lap as you get ready. You’re nervous and you’re not sure why. Josh gets ready with his brothers.

“You look great,” Your sister assures.

“I just don’t know why I’m so nervous!”

“Maybe because this is your first first date in six years?” That could be it.

“But it’s not with just any random guy, it’s Josh. He’s so casual and cool about everything.”

“Is that supposed to make you feel better?” You see her point.

You sigh and take one last look in the mirror, before slipping on your ring. You turn to your sister.

“How do I look?” Your hair and makeup is nice, and your outfit looks really good on you.

“You look amazing. If he doesn’t like the way you look tonight, he’s not worth it.” You want him to be worth it. You want it desperately; in a way you never knew you could want.

“Thanks.” You smile, nervously. You hear a knock on the door and open it to see him standing there. He wears a white button up with the top two buttons undone, as well as black pants. He’s so good looking it almost kills you.

“Hi.” He grins. “You look amazing.”

“You look amazing.” You respond. You lean forward and kiss his cheek, and he peeks into the room to see your sister and nephew. He greets them and smiles, before taking your hand in his.

“Ready to go?” You nod and tell your sister to give everyone at dinner your love before you head out for your date. Dinner is at this candlelit restaurant, where you and Josh sit at a private table behind this beaded curtain.

“This place is so nice..” You tell him. “I don’t know If I’ve ever been on a first date this fancy.” You confess. He smiles.

“Me neither. It’s beautiful here.” He takes your hand that rests on the table. Your waitress comes in with a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket, introducing herself as Anna, and telling you about the menu for tonight.

“The chef has chosen five courses for our patrons tonight. It isn’t the same as last night’s dishes nor will it be the same as tomorrow’s. It’s preselected, so if there’s any allergies, just let me know. Now, I understand that we’re celebrating a special occasion tonight.” She hums as she pours the two of you champagne.

You look to Josh and wait for him to make up some story about wanting peace and quiet before you get married. Instead, he looks to Anna and says,

“First date. I think this one might just stick, too.”

“First date on a cruise ship? My, what a fairytale.” She smiles. “Well, we hope to give you a night to remember and a start to something wonderful.” She tells you both. “I’ll be back with your first course, soon. Enjoy the champagne, my friends.” She leaves, and you look to Josh.

“Why didn’t you tell her we’re supposed to be engaged?”

“I don’t think she’s the type to tell on us. Besides, this is real. I meant what I said, I want you to stick around...”

“I want you to stick around too.” You confess. You make conversation, getting to know each other through dinner. It’s all delicious, really. Over dessert, you decide that you can’t take it anymore. “I’m having a great time.”

“Me too.”

“I wouldn’t have asked anyone else to go on this date with me.” You confess.

“I would hope not.” He smiled.

“No, Josh, I’m being serious. It has shocked me to my core, but I’m finding myself wanting you more and more.” You tell him, your eyes meet his. “I think one of the best decisions I ever made was giving you that ticket.”

He says your name softly, and when he’s not saying anything like this back to you, you feel tears in your eyes. Is it possible that this man you’ve found yourself falling for has been playing pretend the whole time, the way you were meant to be as well?

“I’m sorry...” You say shakily. “I thought that... That maybe you’d feel the same way about me, but I was- “He squeezes your hand softly.

“Stop. I do want you… I want you so badly it’s destroying me to not have you.” He tells you. Your face flushes. “I’ve wanted you ever since I saw you, and I’ve been thanking whatever force that exists in the universe for meeting you.” He confesses.

Before you can respond, Anna comes back, asking if you want anything else, more champagne, perhaps?

“Can you have someone send it to our room in about two hours?” Josh asks. Anna, who must get that request often, thinks nothing of it.

“Of course. Enjoy the rest of your night, young lovers.” She leaves, and Josh leaves her a generous cash tip, before standing up and grabbing your hand again.

“Come on.” He tells you, and you follow him, curious as to what he has planned. There’s something in his eyes, a spark he gets when he has an idea. You follow him out of the restaurant, your hand locked into his, as you lean your head on his shoulder. He walks with you, all the way up to the top deck of the ship, where it’s quiet and the stars are plentiful. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the way you’re looking at him. But Josh leans forward and kisses you, and it’s full of a gentleness you haven’t felt in years.

Your hands land on his jaw, as you deepen the kiss slightly, the night air and the passion you feel sends a shiver down your spine, only amplified by Josh’s hands on your hips.

He pulls away for a moment, looking to you.

“Let me take you back to our room.” He says softly.

“To do what?” You ask in a teasing voice. He groans and kisses you again before pulling away to add,

“So, I can make you feel good, Doll. So, I can watch you in pleasure underneath me.” He tells you. His voice is low, and there’s a lust you haven’t heard before.

“Okay.” You tell him.

“Okay?”

“Yes. Yes, Josh, please take me back to the room and fuck me.”

“As you wish, Doll.”

And he does exactly that.

• • •

Day Eight:

Your entire body aches when you wake up, tangled in sheets and in Josh’s arms. You feel amazing. Your eyes flutter open to see him admiring you, and you bury your face in the pillow as you groan. He laughs, his hand gently tracing patterns into your shoulder blade.

“Good morning, Pumpkin.” He says gently, kissing your ear.

“Good morning, Sunshine.” You tell him, before finally picking your head up to look at him. “Josh, I think you’re something equivalent to a sex god.” You say honestly. He laughs.

“Thank you, Baby.” He hums. “Wanna order room service?” He asks.

“Nah... I want you to do that thing you did last night, the one that made me scream.” You reply, and he has this smirk on his lips that makes you want him desperately.

“As you wish.”

You don’t get out of bed until lunch time, and even then, he joins you in the shower.

• • •

Day Nine:

Jake has to beg his brother to come up for air and ask you to join them for drinks that night. He’s worried, maybe that you’ll be scared off by the three of them, or maybe you’ll realize you don’t like him as much.

But you’re thrilled to get to know them, and you head down to the bar around six for drinks and dancing.

“Hey guys!” Sam calls over to you when he sees you. Josh still seems nervous, and you don’t really understand it. You both like each other more than you can put into words, so why is he so nervous for you to meet the three men he calls brothers?

Well, because his brothers are assholes.

You slid into the booth next to Jake, and you go to engage him in conversation. Instead, Sammy loudly calls over to the bartender. “Hey! My brothers getting married next week, how about some shots?”

Josh looks like he might die.

“I am so sorry about him—” You laugh, leaning against him as you try to contain your laughs.

“No, No, it’s funny, I’m glad you told them about it.” You turn back to the boys. “How are you guys enjoying the cruise so far?”

“It’s been great!” Danny yells over the music. “The beaches are so nice!”

“Did Josh tell you about the private beach we found?’

“Yeah! He also told me about the two of you conning your way into free drinks and shit!”

“It’s technically not a lie! I was supposed to be married on Thursday, just not to Josh.” You explain, and Sam laughs.

“You know, Josh has been doing nothing but talk about you, but you’re much funnier than he mentioned.” He hums. You glance over to Josh, who just blushes and rolls his eyes.

“You talked about me? What sort of things does he talk about?”

“Let’s not embarrass him, guys.” Jake says a smirk on his face.

“Thank you, Jake—”

“His new beau doesn’t need to know that he’s constantly gushing about ‘em!” The boys all break out in laughter, and you can’t help but giggle a bit. Josh is overly embarrassed.

“Douchebags! All of you are assholes!” He laughed, not really mad at them. He’s just enamored with you, and despite sleeping with you and telling you as much, it’s still a little bit embarrassing. Not that he’s embarrassed of you, but he finds himself falling for you more and more as the days go by. It’s hard to verbalize.

“Aw, Joshy, they’re just having fun, honey.” You hum. Leaning over and kissing his cheek, a habit you’re finding yourself getting more and more used to.

Shots land in front of the five of you, and Sam holds his up.

“To the happy couple!” You all drink your shots, and you think something crazy.

You think maybe you could get used to doing this. Being a part of their group. Being close to him, to them.

Maybe you could do this for the rest of your life.

You blame it on the alcohol, this feeling that this could last forever.

But when you look at Josh, you’re just enamored by him, in a way that’s deeper than just being a fan or just a crush.

And it crosses your mind for a second.

This crazy idea.

You kiss Josh quick, forgetting about the idea, blaming it on the alcohol again.

• • •

Day Ten:

You wake up with this wicked hangover, and to your disdain, Josh is nowhere to be found. You decide to get dressed and grab breakfast, figuring he’ll either text you or find you when he wants to see you.

But every few moments you’re turning as if you want to say something to him.

It’s frustrating because you know how crazy it is that you like him so much.

And it’s scary because you haven’t felt this way in a long time, maybe even a year or two, because with Josh, you realize how much you weren’t in love with your ex-fiancé, and it’s wild because you thought you’d marry him.

But it’s different with Josh, Better, most definitely. That thought from last night comes back, and you can’t blame it on the liquor anymore, and you can’t blame it on Josh looking amazing in bar lighting, and you can’t blame it on how connected you feel to his brothers because they aren’t around.

Your hand drifts to your ring finger, and you play with your ring, thinking about Josh. You wonder what will happen when you get off this ship. You wonder how it would be taking weekly trips to Nashville, especially when the school year starts and you’re busy with grading and lesson plans.

It all seems totally ridiculous. Why bother then?

But you keep coming back to it. This crazy idea, like an itch you just can’t scratch. You want to verbalize it, you want to ask it of Josh, but you realize how damn wild it is.

Maybe he’ll like that.

You’re lost in your thoughts when you feel a hand on the small of your back. You grin.

“You know, Honey, I—” When you turn around, you don’t find Josh. You find some random asshole who is already drunk, because, when in Rome. “Get the fuck off me, Dude.” You move away from him.

“What’s the matter? You seemed into it before—”

“I thought you were someone else.”

“Oh, you got a little boyfriend?”

“Fiancé, actually.” Like magic, Josh appears behind the stranger. He looks angry. He looks jealous. He looks hot. “Is there a problem here?” he asked, tilting his head. He moves to you and wraps his arm around your waist.

“No problem, man.” The creepy dude backs off, walking off. Josh looks to you and cups his hand to your cheek.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” You say softly, “I’m okay...” You bite your tongue, before adding, “That was sort of hot—”

“I’m sorry?”

“No, not that asshole, you! Being protective of me like that… I’m not used to it.”

“Oh… Well—”

“And you were jealous. So hot.”

“I was not jealous!”

“Honey, you most totally were! It was so so attractive.”

“Why?” He seems genuine.

“Because... C’mon, I have to tell you a story, but we gotta go sit down so I can tell it.” You sigh. You wind up leaving the restaurant and sitting on a beach chair on the top deck. He keeps his hand on your thigh as you relax. Your heart is beating rapidly, and you’re not sure why you’re so anxious, but Josh seems to sense this.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I just hate this story…” You take a deep breath before you begin. “I was with my ex for about five years. He asked me to marry him after we booked this cruise, and I don’t know why I said yes… Maybe I loved him, but I wasn’t… In love with him like everyone describes I should be... But he never did anything romantic for me, no flowers, no sexy things, certainly no jealousy… So, I’m not sure why the cheating on me destroyed me so much, but it did. I haven’t felt anything for anyone since then. Until you.” You told him, and he just has this focused look on his face.

“He sounds horrible.” You laugh, tears falling from your face that you didn’t even realize you had. He wipes them tenderly.

“Yeah...” You say softly, leaning into his touch.

“Wanna hear my sob story now?”

“Sure, Honey.”

“I’m falling in love with someone who I met last week and might never see again after Saturday.”

“Josh...”

“We don’t have to ruin anything with commitment, we don’t…” His breath is shaky, and you catch tears running down his face, too. “I just need you to know that I’m falling in love with you, and I have no intentions of staying away from you or stopping that process.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to. Never.” You tell him earnestly. “I’m falling in love with you too.” You wipe his tears. Even crying, your boy is beautiful.

“Well, then we’ll just hope that the ship sinks before it docks so we can go down in history as the lovers who should’ve made it.” He smiles. It makes you cry harder, offering all this comfort but no happiness. Josh frowns and wraps his arms around you. “I’m sorry for making you cry.”

“It’s okay…” You whisper. “You have this way with words... It makes it hard not to be moved or not to fall deeper in love with you.”

“I thought we agreed no preventing the inevitable like falling in love with each other?” You pull away from the hug and wipe his tears. He kisses yours away.

“Right, well I’m instilling a new rule. Not preventing us from falling in love with each other. No more tears, either Kiszka?” You hold out your pinky. He links your pinkies together and then you both kiss the ends of your hands on instinct, giggling when you realize you both did it without words. It’s like an invisible string that had connected you all this time.

“You got it, Doll.” He says softly, before leaning forward and kissing you gently. You decide not to worry too much about it, realizing that if the universe was smart enough to bring you and Josh together for these two weeks, you’d find your way back to each other again. How could you not?

You were falling in love with each other, after all.

• • •

Day Eleven:

You wake up the next day to your favorite sight. Josh tangled in the sheets with you, but for once he’s still asleep. You love it. You wound up spending the day with him and then going to dinner with your family, the night full of laughs, because Josh is just so God damn charming.

He’s so pretty.

You grab your phone from your dresser and then take a photo of him, all sleepy and shining under the sunlight.

His eyes flutter open after a few minutes of you admiring him.

“Well, good morning, Pumpkin.” He says in this low morning voice. Your fingers play with his hair,

“Good morning, sunshine.” You grin, leaning down and kissing his head. He turns to you and smiles.

“What do you have planned for today?” At this question, you groan. Fuck, you forgot everything you have to do today.

“I have a meeting with a notary, who doubles as the cruise line’s wedding coordinator, that I was supposed to go to with my ex…” You sigh. “But now I gotta go and tell them that no, I am not getting married, and that the ceremony is going to be a renewal of vows for my parents.” You sigh and rub your eyes. Josh looks at you, and he has that idea spark in his eyes. You see it, and he knows you see it. “What? What is it?” You ask.

For a moment, you wonder if he has the same idea that you’ve had for the past few days. But that’s crazy, why would he possibly think that you two should go through with it, that you two should get married?

“What if we went through with it? Getting married, I mean?”

Well, I’ll be damned. He did have that thought.

“Josh—” You grin, and he shakes his head, burying his face in his pillow.

“Never mind, that’s dumb, I’m sorry…” He sighs. “We just met, it’s a completely crazy idea, I just can’t get it out of my head, and—”

“Let’s do it.”

“What?”

“Let’s get married.” What the fuck are you talking about? Why would you agree to this? “It’s bonkers.”

“I completely agree.” He speaks. “You need a dress.”

“We need rings.”

“We need to tell our families…” You grab your phone and start to make a list. Get notarized, get a dress, get rings, tell families. That’s the list.

Busy busy day. Josh takes your hand and kisses the back of it, squeezing your hand. Then, you get up and head off to shower.

As the two of you get ready to meet the notary, you begin to realize how crazy this is. You met Josh what? Ten, eleven days ago? How did you manage to fall in love with him so quickly? You try not to think too much about it. Worst case scenario, you get an annulment, right?

You’re getting married to a rockstar and you’re not even a groupie.

Josh meets you at the door and takes your hand, and you begin to grow nervous. Not to get married but to tell your parents. This was a wild idea that you most definitely did not see them approving of. But you’re an adult, you can make your own choices.

Josh squeezes your hand when you get into the elevator. As the doors close, you begin to kiss him, full of this need.

Eventually, you do make it to your notary, Linda.

“Hi! You must be Mr. and Mrs. Austin—”

“No, actually. Mr. and Mrs. Josh Kiszka, and I have no intention of being Mrs. Josh. Mrs. Kiszka is fine.” You smile.

“Oh, my mistake. I didn’t realize—”

“Spur of the moment decision. Which, I know is crazy and you probably don’t get that a lot, but—”

“Elopements of all types are extremely common especially in the vacation business.” She assures. “And honestly, I met my wife and knew I wanted to marry her after a week. Some people wait years to get married and only last for a few months. Others get married after two weeks and stay together for the rest of their lives. When you know, you know.” She advises. You like that, and grin.

“When you know, you know.” You repeat. “What do we have to do to get married?” She hands you two forms for a marriage license and goes through them with you.

“And are you going to take his last name?”

Kiszka. Mrs. Kiszka. You imagine your students calling you that, imagine the name on your ID, on a sign in your home.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I will.” You smile. She guides you through the steps to do that on the marriage license. It takes a while, but you eventually get the licenses filled out, and Linda takes them back.

“Amazing. I’m going to make sure everything looks good here and give you confirmation tomorrow. At the very least, you get married by the captain tomorrow and then when you get back to the states, you’ll fill out the license again, and celebrate your anniversary as tomorrow not when the license goes through.” That seems simple enough.

“Thank you.” You tell her. Josh parrots you, and Linda just smiles.

“Of course. I wish you two a very long and happy marriage.” She says, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Yeah, you remember how we said this was last minute?” She nods. “Where can we get rings and a wedding dress?”

She directs you to a small boutique on the island you’re docked at, somewhere that has lots of gowns for stupid decisions like yours. Then, she tells you there’s a jeweler on board. Is there anything this ship doesn’t have?

So you head off to the jewelers first, and you, honestly, spend more time doing this than anything else. You look at black bands, and they’re not your style. You look at silver, but it really doesn’t go with the gold ring you got the other day.

Then you land on these gold wedding bands. They’re engraved with leaf patterns, and the jeweler advertises custom ring carvings in less than 24 hours.

“Hey,” He says to the attendant at the counter. “Can we see the gold bands?” He takes them out and hands them to you, and you both place it on your right ring finger. It’s bad luck to try them on your left hand, right?

They fit like gloves.

Josh glances up to the attendant. “How long would it take to engrave our initials into each other’s rings with tomorrow’s date?”

“Couple of hours. You can pick them up tomorrow morning.” He tells you two, and Josh nods.

“Great.” He tells him your initials and his, so that he gets them right, and hands him his card.

Your next step is the boutique. And you stop Josh before you go into the boutique.

“Wait here.”

“What?”

“It’s bad luck to see my wedding dress before the day of.” He scoffs, playfully.

“We’re getting married tomorrow, doll. Besides, we’re not really traditional.” He has a point, but you shake your head.

“C’mon, for me? I won’t be long.” You play with his collar. He kisses you gently, and nods.

“Okay, okay. Good luck with your shopping.” He tells you, and you kiss him quickly before heading over to find yourself a wedding dress.

You don’t find a bunch of white options, but here are your options:

The first is a pretty silk thing but it makes your proportions look bizarre. So, you move on.

The second makes you look like a Mormon, with long sleeves and a turtleneck. It goes down to your ankles and is made of a heavy fabric. No, thank you.

The third is a new age dress that is white with complex black designs. You appreciate the look, but you decide it isn’t for you.

The fourth one is one you weren’t excited about, but then when you try it on, it’s all you want. It’s a 50’s style cut, and it comes down just past your knees, with a corset top. But the skirt and corset has floral designs, with the skirt being a thin lace layer with the flower print. It’s gorgeous, and it almost makes you cry to see yourself in the mirror.

It exudes spring energy. You think about Josh’s face when he sees you walk down the aisle.

You go to pay for it at the counter, and you pick up a pair of simple white heels, and a pearl necklace.

There’s a bouquet of flowers that sits by the counter. You get an idea when you see them and throw them into the pile of wedding things you have.

“Special occasion?” The cashier asks, an amused smile on their face as they ring you up.

“My wedding day tomorrow.”

“It’s a beautiful dress.” They hum. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” You hum, a blush filling your cheeks. They put the dress in a garment bag, so it isn’t visible, and you hold the bag in the other hand.

“How’d you make out?” Josh asks.

“Lovley. I even got myself accessories.” You grin. Josh leans forward and kisses you quickly.

“My bride to be…”

“My husband to be.” You say softly. “We need to text our families. Maybe we could have them meet us for dinner and tell them then?”

“Yeah, that’s a great idea.” He says. You whip out your phones and spend a few minutes texting your families on the cruise asking them to dinner. Then, you turn back to your husband to be, for real, not just to get free things.

“Wanna go back to our cabin...?” You smirk. “We should engage in premarital… activities.”

“Oh, Doll… You’ll be the death of me...” He growls, taking your hand and leading you back to the ship.

You spend your time until dinner doing your favorite things with Josh, and then you spend about two hours fashioning your bouquet of flowers into a flower crown, leaving a few to tuck into Josh’s hair and suit pocket.

He was off grabbing coffees for the two of you, when there’s a knock on your door. You answer it, and it’s your sister. Oh.

“Hey!” You grin, going back to your work on the flower crown.

“Hey, why’d you ask your roommate and his family to join us for dinner?” She hums. You’re about to answer when she looks around the room. She sees the garment bag hanging from your bathroom door, the white shoes and pearls, flowers scattered around the room. Her eyes land on the gold wedding bands on your dresser. She says your name, before adding, “You aren’t…”

“Listen, I know how crazy it is—”

“It’s more than crazy!” She says, sitting on the bed with you. “You’ve known him for a week!”

“…Ten days.” You say, a little ashamed, your older sister disapproving of your choices.

“C’mon.” She says.

“Mom and Dad have been married for twenty years.” You say. “They got married after six months. Arthur and Veroncia got married after a year! You had a baby with a guy who you aren’t even dating anymore. So what if I’ve only known him for a week? Who gives a shit? People have gotten married after a week and stayed together their entire life, others get engaged after five years and don’t even make it to marriage!” You sigh, rubbing your eyes. “Maybe it’s a mistake. But it’ll be the best god damn mistake of my life, so just stand by the alter and look pretty for me.” You ask.

She looks at you for a few minutes.

“Okay. Yeah, I’ll be there. You’re right, it could be a mistake, but it could be amazing.” She hums. “You have a nicer man than I do.” She grins. You laugh and hug her. “Now let me see your dress, Mrs. Kiszka!”

That night at dinner, you hold Josh’s hand nervously, as if he’ll float away if you let go. Your two families get along great. Your parents love his, your siblings quickly get accustomed to his, and your nephew sits on Josh’s lap, and they entertain each other.

Between Dinner and Dessert, when your nephew returns to his seat, you stand up and gently clink your glass for everyone’s attention.

“Hi everybody. Thanks so much for coming tonight,” Is this a rehearsal dinner? “So, a few of you might have noticed my ring, and uh—It started as a joke. To get free stuff.” You say, earning a few laughs at the table. “But it developed into something more.” You look to Josh. “And what I’m about to say, is crazy, I know that. And I’ve been thinking about it for a few days, and nothing has ever felt so right. So support us or not, I don’t care. This is what’s happening and—”

“Spit it out already!” Your dad laughs. You pause, your hands shaking. Josh takes it in his.

“So, Josh and I are getting married tomorrow.”

Silence. No response. You feel tears in your eyes.

“Mozel Tov!” Your mom gasps, standing up and going over to the two of you. She hugs you tightly, and her congratulations break the tension of the table as the rest of them come over to congratulate you.

Anyone who has reservations against your decisions keep them to themselves. Jake comes over to congratulate you two, and suddenly Josh is nervous again.

“Congrats, man!”

“You’re not mad?” Josh asks.

“Mad? You’re marrying a girl you met last week. That is so rock and roll!” He pulls josh into a hug, and then he hugs you. “Oh, good luck, hot stuff.” He hums and kisses your cheek. You feel loved.

“Good,” Josh grins, “Because you’re going to be my best man.” You turn to your parents.

“You’re not mad?” You ask.

“No, of course not. It’s crazy, but you’re an adult. If you love him, you need to do what’s best for you.” You grin.

“Thank you. We should schedule a different renewal of your vows, too, and—” Your dad hugs you.

After dessert, you hold your nephew in your arms, and he’s sleepy.

“Is Josh gonna be my uncle?” He asks softly, and you smile, kissing his head.

“Yeah. I think so...”

“Good. He’s cool…” You look at Josh and admire him laughing with your sister and his brothers.

“Yeah. I think so too.”

• • •

Day Twelve:

Your wedding day goes by way too quickly, and before you know it? You’re slipping on your heels and clipping the pearl necklace around your neck. Your phone rings.

It’s Josh.

“Hey, Honey. What’s going on?” You ask.

“Doll, there’s a photographer by the venue, was this planned?”

Shit. You forgot about that.

“Yeah, uh, let her take photos of you and our families, and she’ll photograph the ceremony. Then, she’ll take photos of the happy couple.”

“Oh yeah? And who would that be?”

“I love you, Joshua.”

“I love you.” He says your name. You hang up, and your parents are knocking at your door. You open it, and they’re speechless at your ensemble.

“Does Arthur have the wedding rings?” You ask, hoping he’ll give them to your nephew.

“Oh, baby, you look beautiful.” Your mom coos, and it hits you.

You’re getting married.

You grin, and head down to the small venue that has been put together on the ship. The photographer takes a few photos of you, and you’re suddenly happy you paid for the whole package.

And then it’s time. Your parents walk you down the aisle, and when you see Josh standing there, his brothers as his best men, your sister stands with your nephew on the other side of the alter. You kiss your parents quickly, before you stand in front of Josh, taking his hands. Your cheeks hurt from smiling.

“Hey.” You say softly.

“Hi…”

“This is crazy, right?” You whisper.

“Absolutely. You look amazing.” He hums. It’s funny because he looks ethereal. The flowers in his hair look amazing.

“You look amazing.”

“I love you.”

The captain, your officiant, begins the usual--- Telling everyone why they’re here, about life and death.

“Do you two want to say a few words?” He asks.

“I’ll go.” Josh says gently. “For a long time, I never thought I’d find anyone who could keep up with me. Who could love me for all the parts of me… And then you came along and immediately, you showed me this infinite kindness. I knew I would never get over you in that moment. I love you. And I hope this marriage is an infinite source of happiness and wild adventures. And if not, fuck it—” He cringes, realizing he used fuck in his wedding vows, “Fuck it. Let’s make it a crazy and fun marriage even if it only lasts a week.” You almost kiss him right there and then.

“Josh, I don’t… I never really thought I’d fall in love again. I never thought I would fall in love with anyone again. I… I thought that maybe… Maybe I was unlovable or...” You play with his fingers. “Whatever. But when I met you, I realized that I didn’t know what love was before you came into my life. And since I’ve met you, life has just been crazy, full of love and this… this general glow for life. I love you. I love you deeper than anyone I’ve ever known, and I like to think we have a golden type of love. I’ll love you forever, no matter what. Marriage or not.”

You realize you’re crying and Josh wipes your tears.

“I thought we promised no more crying, doll.”

“Sorry, Honey.” You whisper.

The Captain smiles and looks to you.

“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health? In richer and in poorer? For better and for worse?”

“I do.” A ring is slipped onto your finger.

He turns to Josh.

“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health? In richer and in poorer? For better and for worse?”

“I do.” You slip a ring onto his.

“You may now kiss the bride.” And he does. He places his hands on your hips and pulls you in, kissing you deeply.

The rest of forever starts now, and with Josh by your side, that doesn’t seem so daunting.

• • •

Day Thirteen:

Only technically is it day thirteen.

After the ceremony, the photographer dragged you and Josh off to take photos, and then you went to dinner. You had cake, and then the party really started. Josh’s parents and your own call it an early night and promise to watch over your nephew.

The rest of you go out and drink until you and Josh stumble off into the night. It’s around two a.m., maybe three.

You lay on the beach chairs that you had your talk on back on day ten. Josh holds your hand as you listen to the waves crash, and even drunk, you admire the stars from the top deck.

“Honey?”

“Yeah, Doll?”

“I love you.”

“What happens when we get off the boat..?”

“We…” he sighs softly. “We try long distance. We can make It work until we decide to move in together.”

“It’ll probably be a while, unless I can get a job before the school year starts in Nashville...”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“And when you go on tour?”

“You’ll knit on our porch and wait for me to come back.”

“You’ll write songs about me?”

“Baby, every song is about you.” You kiss his cheek. “It’s all about you...” He hums.

You listen to the waves crashing as Josh starts to sing you something. Light My Love, you think.

It makes you realize you’ll never regret marrying him.

• • •

Day Fourteen:

You have to get off the ship early. Like, eight a.m. and you have to say goodbye to Josh.

You say goodbye to his parents, his sister, and then his brothers. Jake holds you close for a while, and then tells you,

“See you around, Sister. Be strong, yeah?” You smile and kiss his cheek. He climbs into the car, and you’re left with Josh.

Your husband.

You wrap your arms around his neck, and he places his hands on your waist.

“I love you.” You whisper. “Don’t be a stranger...”

“A stranger? How could I ever be a stranger to my wife? I love you. We’re gonna spend the rest of our lives together, doll. I don’t give a fuck about distance. You’re the only thing that’s ever been easy.”

“I’m a real hassle.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.”

“I want a divorce.” You giggle. He laughs and kisses you, pulling you close. He hugs you for a while. Neither of you say anything. You want to cry. But you don’t. You maintain your composure. You begin planning, you’ll drive up to Nashville next weekend, you’ll make it work.

You have no other options.

None.

You have to be with him. It’s like breathing, it’s the most natural thing in the entire world.

“I love you.” He says, pulling away to look at you. “Doll, I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you, honey.” You kiss him one more time, and then he leaves. He climbs into his car, and you start to cry on the walk back to your car. Your family says nothing, and you just cry as you start to drive. Your nephew frowns, and looks down at his dinosaur blanket, that always makes him feel better. He takes your hand in his and doesn’t say anything.

You begin to look for teaching jobs in Nashville, searching for apartments too. As you’re searching for something, you get a text.

“Good morning, by the way, Pumpkin. See you soon?” You smile and wipe your tears, before texting back.

“good morning, sunshine. see you soon.”

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kane-and-griffin · 7 years ago

Text

“I Put a Spell On You,” Part 2

A Kabby Halloween fic in three parts for the AU The Woman That Fell From the Sky, in honor of @brittanias‘ birthday!

Part 1 here

PART 2: “Fox-Trot Time” (Halloween 2009)

“The problem with putting two and two together is that sometimes you get four, and sometimes you get twenty-two.” -- Dashiell Hammett, from The Thin Man

When Abby left New York nine years ago, she left it for good.

She and Jake had built a life there, one they’d believed would last. She’d moved there young and made it her home and loved it with the same fervent intensity as all the city’s Midwestern expatriates. But all of that meant nothing without Jake.

There was nowhere she could run to escape the crushing sorrow of loss. Every bodega, every hole-in-the-wall wine bar, every bench in Central Park, every subway station, Jake was there. The bank where he’d been shot was on her way to work. The hospital cafeteria on the third floor looked out over the police station where she’d sat, cold and numb and dry-eyed, filling out form after form while Marcus attempted to comfort the confused and tearful Clarke on the bench in the hallway outside.

She could not stay in this place.

The job in Massachusetts had been offered to her a month before Jake’s death, and she had declined it. They were New Yorkers, she’d explained to the hospital recruiter. Their daughter would be a New Yorker too. The city was their home, and they couldn’t imagine leaving it.

The job was still open six weeks later, something that seemed to Abby to be a kind of miracle; they couldn’t find any other surgeons of her caliber willing to move out to the middle of nowhere – leaving behind every modern amenity, from Korean barbecue to decent theatre – to take a job in a small sleepy town with only a few thousand residents.

But Jake had never set foot in that town. She had never even told him its name. It felt, in that moment, like the one place in the world she could go to escape.

So she packed up her car, strapped Clarke into the backseat, and off they went.

And she never went back.

Nine years ago, watching the New York skyline disappear in her rearview mirror as steel buildings turned into green forests, she hadn’t been able to imagine ever returning. She hadn’t thought the pain would ever fade.

But Clarke is a freshman in high school now, and they’ve made a life for themselves, and it doesn’t hurt to remember Jake the way that it used to. She’s changed. Marcus has changed her. She’s older and sadder than she was when she and Jake were reckless urban twentysomethings together, but she’s also steadier on her feet.

It’s because Marcus knows this – because Marcus can sense this – that he even dares to ask her the question.

It starts with a senior citizens’ cruise to the Bahamas.

Abby’s parents come to Massachusetts for Christmas every year, to flagrantly spoil their granddaughter. But this year, they have, improbably, entered some grocery store sweepstakes and actually won, which means they will be spending the latter half of December aboard what Marcus describes as “an unfathomably enormous maritime shrine to capitalism, with liquor”, thus depriving them of their best opportunity to buy fourteen-year-old Clarke hundreds of dollars’ worth of things she doesn’t need. Abby suggests Thanksgiving as a compromise, privately hoping they’ll decline it; her parents have very particular views on proper Thanksgiving food, and with her mother there to appraise it she will never be able to relax about the turkey, even though Marcus has never messed it up once.

But they have an entirely different solution in mind. They want to take Clarke to Disneyland for Halloween.

Clarke, of course, is over the moon, and says yes immediately, only afterwards pausing to realize that Marcus – now the fall festival’s most devoted attendee – will be crushed. It’s quietly become a tradition over the past few years, and if his fans have noticed that he never takes Halloween concert gigs, no matter how good the money, they’ve certainly never put two and two together. He would never dream of missing a Halloween with Clarke and Abby, and Clarke is afraid she’ll hurt his feelings if she tells him that this year, she’ll be the one who isn’t coming home.

Like a chicken, she makes Abby break the bad news to him. Ordinarily her mother would protest this uncharacteristic abdication of responsibility, but the tradeoff is a promise to clean her room without being reminded every day from now until the trip, an offer Abby can’t refuse. She approaches the topic gingerly, and Marcus is predictably disappointed, but brightens almost immediately, that endearing lift in his voice she knows means he’s just had a great idea.

“Come to New York with me,” he says, startling her into silence.

“What?”

“For Halloween. Come to New York this year.”

Abby has always thought she would never go back. But she loves the fall festival because Clarke and Marcus love it and she can’t imagine enjoying herself there without them; so, surprising both of them, she says yes.

“You used to love throwing Halloween parties with Jake,” he says, his voice gentle, cautious. “Do you think maybe . . . we could have one?”

She pauses for a long moment before responding, the magnitude of the thing hovering between them apparent to both. It sounds like such a small thing, but it isn’t. It’s massive. It’s a real question. It’s a decisive relationship step. Can she not only return to the city she left behind, the city where she was Jake’s friend and then lover and then wife, but return there for the purpose of being a couple in public with somebody else?

The last time she did this, it was in the tiny Brooklyn apartment she’d shared with Jake since they were college students. He’d stood on the kitchen table to drape orange and black crepe paper along the ceiling and replace the bulbs in the light fixture with ones that glowed green, and they’d handed out gummy snakes and spiders to all the trick-or-treating kids in the building. Clarke had been three and told her parents she wanted to dress up for Halloween as a cup, a bizarre notion from which they could not dissuade her (“Clarke, why do you want to dress up as a cup?” “I like cups.” “We could go to the store and look at other costumes –“ “NO A CUP A CUP A CUP”), so Jake had sighed and gone down to the basement and dug through the piles of recycling in the trash room to find a cardboard box, which he cut into a cylinder and covered with a red plastic tablecloth, pleated at the top and edged in white, like a red Solo cup. He had written “DO NOT DRINK” on it in black Sharpie, which Clarke found hilarious.

The last time she’d experienced Halloween in the city, she’d been a wife and the mom of a toddler and a big-shot surgeon on the rise, shooting up through the ranks at Sloan-Kettering, destined for greatness.

The last time she and Marcus were alone together in New York, they were drinking coffee and flirting and very nearly holding hands while Jake was being raced in an ambulance to the hospital where she worked.

It’s not just about the party.

She thinks for a long time, and he waits patiently, quiet at the other end of the line, letting her have her space. She turns it over and over in her mind before finally speaking.

“Can we compromise?” she finally asks. “Yes to New York, and yes to a party, as long as it’s very small and you can promise I won’t get my face in a magazine or something. I don’t . . .” She pauses, unsure how to say what she wants to say without hurting him.

“You don’t want to go out in public with me in the city,” he finishes for her, and the sadness in his voice isn’t directed at her, but she feels it anyway.

“I can’t,” she says heavily. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Abby.”

“I’m just not quite ready to end up on a Worst-Dressed List,” she jokes weakly, but neither of them laugh. It’s just a little too close to being true.

Marcus is very careful about deflecting attention away from Abby and her town. He’s friends with a lot of beautiful women and he usually takes one of them to the red carpet events Abby finds too terrifying to even consider. He has a nice comfortable arrangement with a young actress friend of his named Lexa, a rising young romantic comedy star whose agents have been very blunt with her about not coming out as a lesbian until she’s “more reliably bankable,” so she and Marcus are often each other’s red carpet safety net. Abby likes Lexa. They had lunch once when Abby was in L.A. for work. Every time an awards thing comes up, Marcus always asks Abby if she’d like to go, and she always suggests he take Lexa instead. All it would take, she reminds him, is one sharp-eyed music journalist, and the whole house of cards would come tumbling down. Which is everybody’s nightmare.

So Marcus goes on appearing in public with scores of different lovely women and journalists keep breathlessly speculating about who “The Woman” might be and Abby continues living the calm, quiet life she built for herself, which Marcus gets to share when he comes to visit.

But it doesn’t go both ways.

Abby’s town will always protect her. New York City never will.

“I’ll come,” she tells him, “if we can be normal people for the weekend. If you can be Marcus, and not Marcus Kane.”

“I’ll do the best I can,” he tells her, but then she hears that little lift in his voice again.

“What?” she demands. “What are you plotting?”

“A small private party,” he insists, and she can hear him grinning through the phone. “Just like you asked. I promise.”

Jake never liked black-and-white movies.

This was a fight they had many times. “Casablanca is a classic!” Abby would insist, causing Jake to roll his eyes.

“No, Rocky is a classic,” was his inevitable rebuttal. “Casablanca is just old.”

“It’s considered one of the greatest films of all time.”

Jake would dismiss this with a handwave. “It doesn’t even have any explosions in it.”

“It’s a war movie, of course it has explosions,” Abby would retort, though she had not seen it in so many years she could not always reliably remember whether or not this was true. And so on and so forth, ad infinitum, until Jake would smack her on the ass and make her laugh and they’d forget what they were arguing about because kissing was a much better use of the couch than watching a movie anyway.

But Marcus loves old movies as much as she does. Just one of the many small constant reminders that this relationship is profoundly different from her last one. Not better or worse, not more or less, but endlessly, constantly, impossibly different, in ways she is still discovering.

They’d watched The Thin Man together on the couch one night, three or four days after he’d first arrived on her doorstep, the whole world still reeling. He’d been clicking through the cable channels, trying to find something that wasn’t another replay of the same sickening footage of the plane smashing into the towers, and had landed on a marathon of Myrna Loy films on one of the classic movie networks, The Thin Man just starting. “I love this movie,” he’d said absently, almost to himself more than to her, and Abby turned from where she sat beside him to rest her forehead against the soft blue cotton of his sweater, and began to cry. He cupped her cheek in his hand and tilted her face up to regard her with confusion and a degree of worry that teetered on the edge of panic. But through the tears she was smiling.

“You sounded like you,” she said softly. “Just now. When you said that. It was the first time since you’ve gotten here that you sounded like yourself again.”

He didn’t say anything. He knew exactly what she meant.

So she rested her head on his shoulder, curled up into the cradle of his arm, and they watched Nick and Nora Charles quip and banter and toss back oceans of champagne and solve murders in glamorous 1920’s New York, along with their faithful dog Asta, and for an hour and a half they forgot about everything that wasn’t the movie and each other, and Abby fell asleep in bed that night with her head pillowed on his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat and thinking to herself that maybe such a thing as happiness was really possible.

They’ve watched it dozens of times in the intervening years, and it has lost none of its charm, which makes it perhaps inevitable as Marcus’ suggestion for their Halloween costume.

“Why are we dressing up? I thought we were just having a small, casual party,” she asks suspiciously, when he calls to make the suggestion, and she hears him hesitate on the other end of the line for just a moment before carefully answering, “ . . . You never said ‘casual.’”

“I definitely did.”

“Small. I agreed to small.”

“Marcus – “

“Clarke will never forgive me if I don’t make you wear a costume this year.”

“Marcus –”

“Is that Marcus?” asks Clarke, strolling in from the other room as if on cue (which she might be; it’s entirely possible that he texted her). “He showed me your costumes and they’re so cool.”

So that, of course, is the end of that. Nick and Nora it is. (He’s even managed to locate a stuffed wire fox terrier.)

Marcus has opted for the costumes from the Christmas party scene, with Nora in a floaty tiered confection of black-and-white striped chiffon, hair curled into sleek Marcelle waves, and Nick in a dapper pinstriped suit and white pocket square, hair slicked back, beard shaved off once again into a perfect tiny handlebar mustache. (“You could just recycle your Gomez costume,” she’d pointed out when he sent the photos, which he rebutted with indignation. “Abby, this is a completely different suit.”)

He’s also decided the party should be held in one of the private banquet rooms at the old Sutton Club Hotel, where Dashiell Hammett wrote The Thin Man, a decision he plays off to Abby as merely aggressive commitment to the theme, but she knows better. It’s to protect her, and their guests, from being seen coming in or out of his apartment, which is never free from the watchful eyes of paparazzi.

If they’d had the party at Marcus’ apartment, Abby would never be able to let down her guard, too worried about being spotted.

But anyone can enter a hotel and get into an elevator and go up to the sixth floor and give their name to the pair of unsmiling security guards (incognito in hotel uniforms) outside Event Room C, and close the door behind them, without People Magazine being any the wiser.

They spend the nights before and after the party in the hotel. It feels like a sinful indulgence to share a king-sized bed with Marcus after so many nights curled up together in the center of the full-sized mattress she’d bought for a house she thought she would always live in alone, and which she has always felt superstitious about trading in for a roomier one now that an extremely tall man who sometimes hogs the covers is sharing her bed on a semi-regular basis. It feels too much like tempting fate. So they’ve simply gotten used to it, sleeping tangled up together in the center of the only-just-big-enough mattress. The gleaming white linens and pillow-top at the Sutton Place are an unimaginable luxury. Though they still sleep tangled up together in the center anyway. Old habits.

Marcus will not let Abby help with, or even see, the decorations until it’s time for the party. He has not even shown her the guest list. It’s impossible to shake the worry that he has perhaps adhered too strictly to the letter of the law (“small”) while entirely discarding the spirit of it (will they be drinking thousand-dollar champagne? Is she going to have to make small talk with Sting again?). She dresses alone in their room (he put his suit on hours ago and is downstairs with the caterers), and realizes she feels oddly vulnerable without Clarke. It’s only Halloween, it’s not Thanksgiving or Christmas, she knows that, but it’s the first holiday they’ve ever spent apart. She would feel safer walking into a room full of strangers in a 1920’s movie costume if her daughter was there to zip up her dress and pin up the back of her hair and hold her hand.

But Clarke’s not here, she’s at Mickey’s Halloween Ball with her grandparents, wearing a pair of orange neon light-up ears and beaming with joy and texting her mother picture after picture of the parade and the rides and the alarming number of shopping bags slowly accruing in her Cinderella-themed hotel room, which means Abby has to make an entrance on her own into a room full of famous strangers, which is basically her nightmare.

Her heart pounds in her chest as she puts the finishing touches on her bright red lipstick, closes the hotel room door behind her, takes the elevator down two floors, says hello to Marcus’ security guards, who wave her past, and then opens the white and gold door.

“Surprise!” says Marcus, and Abby’s heart stops when she realizes she knows everyone in the room.

Marcus didn’t throw a fancy Halloween party for all his famous friends to meet his girlfriend and shove her uncomfortably into a spotlight she doesn’t want.

He threw a fancy Halloween party as a gift for her, and filled it with all the friends she left behind when she moved out of the city.

He kept his promise; by Marcus standards, 30 people counts as “small”, so she’s willing to allow it. Because every single one of them is a person that she loves and misses and thought she’d never see again. The elderly Italian couple who lived next door to her and Jake for six years, who babysat Clarke when the daycare was closed and brought pans of meatballs in Sunday gravy over every week so the broke young parents could eat at least one home-cooked meal. The two nurses who worked under her the whole time she was at Sloan-Kettering, who’d become her right and left hand, and who had been devastated when she left. The priest who’d married them and said Jake’s funeral. The parents of Clarke’s best friends from day care. And more than a dozen others, friends of hers, friends of Jake’s, people she has missed since the day she left but couldn’t quite bear to face again for fear of reopening old wounds. People she’d thought, so often, about calling, or visiting, or emailing, but hadn’t, because what if it turned out she wasn’t ready to spend time with anyone who had their own memories of Jake?

But they’re here, they’re all here, and they’re mingling with friends of Marcus’ who she actually likes, the ones who don’t terrify her. No Cynthia Nixon, no Thelonious J. But she recognizes his drummer and bass player and road crew, she recognizes his old roommates from the shitty Queens apartment he was living in when she first met him, she recognizes the bartender from the East Village dive where he used to play every Thursday and who always snuck him a free beer when Marcus was too broke to pay for it himself.

These are their real people. These are their real friends. This is Marcus Kane’s real New York.

She’s so overwhelmed by the sea of smiling faces in front of her that she doesn’t notice until a few minutes have passed and she’s been hugged by everyone in the room how perfect everything else is. The decorations, simple and elegant in black and white and gold. The food, indulgent but not so expensive that it makes Abby uncomfortable, and no pretentious hotel waiters; just trays heaped with crab cakes and spinach tartlets and chocolate truffles all over the room, for everyone to graze to their heart’s content.

No bartender, either; Marcus has taken on this job himself.

“’The important thing is the rhythm,’” she hears him quoting Nick Charles cheerfully to her old neighbors as she approaches the bar. “’Always have rhythm in your shaking. Now a Manhattan you shake to fox-trot time, a Bronx to two-step time, a dry martini you always shake to waltz time.’”

The neighbors are unimpressed enough with Marcus Kane’s fame and fortune to roll their eyes at this ever so faintly as they take their dry martini, and Abby feels the tension in her spine unknit for the first time since Marcus said the words “Come to New York with me” a month ago.

Her friends are talking to Marcus Kane as though he is a normal person. As though he is simply the man Abby loves. A man wearing the costume of a film noir detective, a man who cut decorations out of gold paper himself and taught himself how to shake a Manhattan to fox-trot time and who has spent so many years listening so carefully to everything Abby has ever said to him that he knew every single person she would want to see in that room. Marcus is already a star by now, Marcus has opened for U2 all over Europe and “The Girl Inside the Mountain” is already piling up an awful lot of zeroes in that bank account that will pay Clarke’s way to college in a few short years. But nobody mentions this. They let him leave all of that on the other side of the door for tonight.

And none of them have forgotten Jake.

On the contrary, he’s everywhere, everyone mentions him, everyone tells stories about him, everyone asks if Clarke still has his eyes. Does Abby remember the year she tried to make Jake hand out raisins instead of candy because it was healthier, so he retaliated by purchasing an industrial-sized bag of king-sized Snickers bars. Or the time they’d made a green Jello mold full of gummy eyeballs and it had worked flawlessly as a Halloween decoration but looked too weird to eat, sitting untouched in the center of the snack table until everyone went home and Jake threw it away, but left one gummy eyeball in the bottom of Abby’s coffee mug to make her scream the next morning.

It has never occurred to Abby how deeply it would heal her heart to talk about Jake, to hear other people’s stories about him, to know how much he was missed by people who weren’t her lover or her child.

She needed this, and she didn’t even know it.

But Marcus did.

She’s wondered, from time to time, whether her old friends, the people who shared her life when she shared it with Jake, would look on her relationship with Marcus as a betrayal. Perhaps it’s this, in part, that’s kept her from coming back to the city.

But she needn’t have worried.

All of them see it.

When they look over at Marcus in the corner, brushing a loose curl out of Abby’s eyes, they smile, every one of them.

“Good for her,” they’ll all say to their spouses in the taxis on the way home. “I’m glad she’s happy.”

#kabby #marcus kane #abby griffin #kabby fic #kabby fan fiction #the 100 fic #au: the woman that fell from the sky #happy birthday b #brittany #oh btw #if you read the original fic and all the headcanons #the part that is lexa here was originally callie #i mentioned that somewhere #but a) i like callie better as abby's town friend #and b) lexa fits better #so just like retcon that in your head k thnx

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