#my heart ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

liampaynememorial · 1 month ago

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Before saying thank you to everyone who participated and reblogged, I want to say some words too. Some words that I haven’t been able to say in my main blog because feelings aren’t my thing, and I hate being vulnerable… so I’m hiding behind this anonymous blog. So sorry, it’s going to be long and there are going to be typos, probably, sorry for that too.

Liam, I don’t even know where to start. I really can’t believe it’s been 2 weeks. Time goes too fast and too slow at the same time, and I feel like I’ve been living these past 2 weeks in a limbo of time going too fast and time going so slow. And I haven’t been able to say a proper goodbye to you yet. Not in the memorial I travelled to, not on my own, so I’ll try now.

I have many “what if?” in my personal life that I try not to get into because spirals, and you have become one now too: What if I could save him? As if I had that power, wish I had. I really wish that my support (your fans support) has been enough to save you, has been the blanket you needed, the hug you needed, whatever you needed. What if One Direction has never existed? What if things were different? And it’s so selfish of me to think that I wouldn’t be here if One Direction never existed. Because you’re not here because One Direction existed. And it’s something that is getting hard to process. I know you loved One Direction, maybe Niall was 1 directioner during the band years, but you were 1 directioner after the hiatus, and 1 supporter for your band mates, for your brothers. I know that besides everything that happened, you loved to be in that band. But what if Simon hasn’t been behind the band management? You know where I’m going… I start spiralling, I find an answer to a question, and I have a new question in mind.

I’m sad and I’m mad. And I’m in denial. I’m sad because you deserved to have a happy ending, you deserved to find your place in the world and in that industry you loved so much. You deserved to heal and to get better. You deserved to see your child growing up. You deserved to see the love. You deserved a much better ending. It’s so tragic. I have been worried about you for years, but never, not even in my worst nightmares I thought this was going to be your ending.

I’m mad at the whole industry. An industry that is full of selfish and greedy people who care more about money, numbers, and money again that they care about the artist. I’m mad at everyone in that hotel who didn’t try and who didn’t do enough. I’m mad at everyone who didn’t defend you, to everyone who bullied you, to everyone who didn’t understand what trauma and addiction can do to a person. I know a lot of people have been saying that the hate you’ve got was because of everything that was being said in early October, but it’s not true. The hate didn’t even start in 2022 after that podcast. The hate started before. The hate started during the band. The hate continued after the hiatus. The hate was always there, for stupid reasons and because of the hypocrisy of this fandom. And because of solo fans who found very funny to put you against each other and loved using the word “flop”. I hope you knew that your music was great. I hope you knew that One Direction wouldn’t have been the same without you. I hope you could know that I have a tattoo related to you, done before the tragedy, but it won’t be the only one. I hope you knew that you had talent, so much talent. I hope you knew you were enough. And loved. I’m mad at the whole world for dampening your light.

And I’m in denial. I’m in denial because you’re here, Liam. I have been a fan of you since I saw you five singing Viva La Vida in the xfactor, and in the fandom some months later. We’ve grown up together, I’m just months older than you. In all these years, 14, you were always in my screen, always in my earphones. And you’re still there, so what do you mean you’re not here? What do you mean you’re not here when I see your gifs, when I can listen to your voice, to your laugh. You know? You were also part of my final project in university, a project about One Direction. You were in so many parts of my life. You are in so many places in my life. It’s so hard to process it when I have you the same way I have always had you—on a screen and earphones. And I’m trying to think that this means that you’ll live forever. I know you’ll do. I know I won’t love anything the way I have loved this band and you all 5. The way I love this band and you all 5. You’re still here. I’ve been seeing white feathers when I was thinking about you during walks, so you’re still here.

I know my comfort place is now tainted by other emotions that aren’t joy, comfort, and love. Tainted by sadness, and anger, and pain, and what ifs. But I’ll know, or I hope, that in the future I can listen to your music— both your solo music and the band music—and feel more positive emotions than bad. I hope I can do the same watching “one direction funny moments” and no think about how it all ended. You know? I always imagined being on my 40s or 50s and going to the reunion, meeting with my mutuals (who most are friends) and dancing all night to the best songs ever.

I imagined dancing to one of One Direction songs during my wedding, wasn’t sure one. I knew I wanted to dance No Control because I wanted to do the dance with my friends who love you as much as I do, but I also was thinking about If I Could Fly piano version, or Home. I imagined so many things in my future and in so many of them, One Direction and you were my soundtrack: getting my first house and the first album played there being Midnight Memories, getting married and having your songs in the wedding, going to your solo concerts and the reunion concert, singing your songs in karaoke, talking to my kids about you and watching videos together, getting more tattoos related to One Direction, doing a tour in London visiting iconic places, doing a pyjama party with my friends that I met here and watching videos and singing together. So many moments that now I don’t know if I’ll do, because now I’m not strong enough to think about it. But I’ll hope I’ll do, because you deserve to be celebrated and honoured in a happy way too. I’ll try Liam, this is my second promise.

I’m not quite sure if I believe in afterlife, in heaven, or in reincarnation. But wherever you are, I hope you are at peace. I hope you’re receiving all this love (that you deserved to see). I hope you’re happy. I hope I’ll get to live another life where you’re part of it again. I love you, Liam. You’ll live forever, in my heart, in my mind, in my screen. I’ll keep talking about you, listening to your songs, and honouring you anyway I can. It might take some time because I need to process and heal, but I’ll do, because you deserve that. My third promise?

Sending kisses, hugs, and love to you. 💕

PS: I’ve made a first promise to you in private that I plan to keep.

#remembering liam payne #liam payne #I plan to keep all the promises but that first one I made only to him it’s the hard one #I’ll post the thank you post later I need a bit of time after pouring my heart here ❤️‍🩹

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zepskies · 14 hours ago

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Oh God, here we go...

Your mind, moonstruck and lunatic, spun complicated cobwebs. Your feeble body and fragile bones threatened to crumble and crack underneath the devastating weight of the truth.

Wow, this bit of description struck me right away. What a lovely and devastatingly poetic way of conveying this...

Because as soon as he would acknowledge it, he’d lose you. How could he live with that?

Oh Barlen, pls. 😭 I just knew he'd be feeling this way. My heart is breaking for both of them really. 💙💙 But of course they're both blaming themselves (perhaps Beau even more so than her). His admission that he wasn't ready to see them together again broke my heart for the 15th time, dear God. 🥲🥲

He knew it was over. You’d never pick him. He wasn’t the love of your life. He wasn’t your once in a lifetime. He wasn’t true love. He was your second choice. The one you were stuck with. Your rebound.

Oh dude, something tells me he couldn't be more wrong about her and how she feels... Or at least, I hope he's wrong? 🫠

As you stood there, feet calcified in front of his bed, a set of familiar whiskey-colored eyes found you.

"Calcified" just really hit me in this moment. Along with "whiskey-colored" -- you're so very good at painting a vivid picture through your word choice.

In a way, her and Randy are so sweet together. It feels calm and warm and familiar, but maybe not quite right anymore? At least for her? As opposed to when she goes to Beau in the scene right after--them two together are just sparks flying off the stove. With them, there's actual passion.

But backing up to the Randy scene -- I really like how you played it and his accepting personality. Like, I know it's been a few years and you've probably moved on already. I guess we're not married anymore? But we could just get married again? loll Poor guy. As if surviving what he went through wasn't enough, now he's going to have to deal with the fact that his wife is head over heels in love with his best friend now. ❤️‍🩹

She's really not the same. Not only because of Beau, but because she's been through too much after Randy's "death."

“Wow, congrats, man. You deserve it,” Randy said with a genuinely happy grin. He seemed like a kid who was catching up with all his friends on the first day of school after summer break. Beau gave him a tight smile that said he didn’t think he deserved it. But only you could read that one. “Uhm, thanks, bud. I see you tomorrow, okay?”

“It’s okay. I get it. Trust me. I do. He’s your husband, and I’m just… Well, I’m nothin’,” he said, his voice laden with heartbreak. “Just don’t come closer, ‘cause if you do, I don’t know if I can hold myself back, alright? ‘Cause all I wanna do right now is kiss you and love you, even it’s the last time. I can’t do that to him. You understand?”

Goddamn it, Beau!! Can you give her, like, a minute to adjust before you already decide you're "nothin'" and she's not gonna pick you? For God's sake. 😭😭 (But totally on brand for him. Great characterization. Sigh.)

“Not the ring I thought I’d give you…”

Just keep pummeling my heart, that's fine. 🙃

He replayed the clips of the hospital in his mind over and over again. How Randy held your hand. How he touched your cheek. How he kissed you. How he looked at you when he first saw you – like he had finally found the piece of his heart again that he lost years ago, the same love in his brown eyes that had been there since day one.

Okay, but he was so focused on Randy's reactions, he didn't bother to watch her reactions, her struggle, and her reluctance.

“You ain’t nothing.”

What a romcom movie moment, I love it!!!

I can't go back to the way things were. I know you think me and Randy are some great love story, but so are you and I.

I'm with Beau on this one--please let her really, truly mean this and not change her mind and leave him later, because I don't think my heart could take it. 😭😭

“I want you,” you assured him, your mouth trailing a path of featherlight kisses along his jaw and down to his throat, his groan vibrating against your soft lips.

How I love these little moments of softness and tenderness in between the amazingly hot ones. ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 And I feel like Beau probably really needs that right now--that reassurance.

Your heart was the North Star, and your heart had led you to him.

Ahh I love a callback to the title! 🥹✨

You placed a gentle kiss on his lips and nodded. “I’m not going anywhere, corazón.”

Ugh, God, my Latina heart sang on that last bit! 😭 But girl, you outdid yourself on this chapter. I can honestly say that was some of the most stellar romantic smut I've ever read. 👌🏽😮‍💨❤️‍🔥

Aaaaand now I'm both excited and scared to see how Randy handles this news. 😬 Something tells me he's not going to take this news as well as the other stuff...

Polaris – Chapter 9

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, ramp up the angst, guilt trips all around, hospitals, bits of fluff in all the chaos, smut (with a heavy dose of more angst)

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: Well, there was no way this wasn't going to be angsty af. Enjoy the ride, loves! 😘

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 9: Marooned

The cool, breezy autumn air whipped you across your face, a sharp, frigid sting in your lungs that burned right through to your heart. Each breath you desperately clutched was a fight for life.

Your mind, moonstruck and lunatic, spun complicated cobwebs. Your feeble body and fragile bones threatened to crumble and crack underneath the devastating weight of the truth. You crouched down on the parking lot asphalt, head heavy in your shaking hands.

“Hey, hey, just breathe…” Beau’s deep voice and warm hand on your back were a short-lived comfort before the first sob broke through you.

He knelt down in front of you, large hands cupping your head when your own grew too tired to hold it. He rested his forehead against yours, green eyes leveling with you. His thumbs wiped the tears from your cheeks.

“Maybe it’s not him,” Beau bargained, his voice a soft whisper. His disavowing mind refused to accept what his breaking heart knew to be true.

However, there was no doubt in yours. “No, I’m sure it’s him.”

“It still might not be true… It could be one of those CGI deep-fakes. You know, they’ve gotten crazy good… She just wants to mess with us,” Beau tried to reason, every bone in his body fighting to accept the truth. Because as soon as he would acknowledge it, he’d lose you. How could he live with that?

Your eyes lifted from the ground, your gaze boring into his. “You really believe that?” Your voice was harsh enough to break through the solid brick barrier he had erected over his heart, your words a wrecking ball. A jittery and hesitant lick of his lips was his abdication. He lowered his head in resignation. “How’s that even possible? You saw him die, right?

Beau’s mouth opened without an answer, his eyes flickered alive with memories. Panic rose with realization and poisoned the pumping blood that coursed through his heart. “I-I saw him get dragged away… I heard the shot.”

He was sure. He was so, so, so sure. And then, it all fell apart. What had he done?

You straightened up, slipping out of his grasp, and clasped your mouth, turning your back to him as your body rattled with shock. “Oh my God… Oh God…”

Beau rose to his feet behind you and swallowed harshly as the realization hit him like a freight train. He wanted to reach out and touch you, needing you now more than ever, but he didn’t know if he still could. His mind raced a mile a minute with questions he couldn’t find an answer to.

How was Randy still alive? Had the cartel kept him all this time? How did Diane find out? And how the hell did she get a hold of him?

“Y/N, I-… I don’t know what to say.” His voice trembled. He could feel you drift further and further away from him till you were just a dot out on the vast ocean. He didn’t want to lose you but didn’t know how to stop it, either. He thought all he needed was for you to just look at him, and it would all be right again. But when you did, it shattered his heart into a million pieces.

“All this time he was alive and God knows where. I-I could’ve looked for him. I could’ve helped him…”

“You didn’t know,” Beau said softly, pushing your blame onto himself. He could’ve known. He should’ve known. He felt helpless, lost, adrift. “Y/N, what d’you want me to do?”

You needed a moment to clear your head enough to think straight. If it wasn’t Randy but any other victim, what would you do next?

“We need to find that bunker. Get him outta there,” you concluded. “You think he’s still alive? You think she’d kill him?”

Recalling the snippet of the video, you remembered the timeline only read an hour instead of the usual forty-eight. It wasn’t about making you suffer through his death because you’d already done that. Diane just wanted you to see.

Beau knew there were only two possible options. Either Diane caught Randy only to show he was still alive and then kill him, or she brought him back into your life to wreak havoc. But the hows and whys didn’t really matter. Both options would cause a rift between you two wider than the Grand Canyon. If Randy was back, dead or alive, Beau’s relationship with you wouldn’t survive it.

He knew it was over. You’d never pick him. He wasn’t the love of your life. He wasn’t your once in a lifetime. He wasn’t true love.

He was your second choice. The one you were stuck with. Your rebound.

“I don’t know,” Beau replied and forced some oxygen into his lungs. He didn’t know for how long he had held his breath. For a minute there, he had forgotten how to breathe at all – and he didn’t even care.

The ringing of your phone broke both of you out of your haze and fatal fantasies. You fished it out of your pocket and stared at the screen with a furrowed brow.

“Who is it?”

“Unknown caller,” you replied before you answered the phone, pinning it between your shoulder and ear. “Hello? Yes, this her…”

Beau watched as your eyes widened, how your brow rose, how your mouth fell open, how your heart stopped. As you hung up, he could see you swallow before you found his eyes. He waited with bated breath for news he already knew.

“That was the hospital here. They said someone brought in my husband.”

The stone silent ten-minute drive to the hospital felt like an eternity. Beau drove, his grip stiff and knuckle-white around the steering wheel. The heat of the old Jeep had barely kicked in by the time you arrived, your hot breaths coming out in vaporizing clouds as you bit your nails bloody and down to their beds on the passenger’s seat. Neither of you spoke a word, too terrified it would cut the last string between you that still tied you to each other.

As the bright sign of the hospital came into view, your heart thudded in your ears, so loudly you could barely hear the world around you anymore. Everything was subdued and distorted as if someone was holding your head underwater. All you wanted was air, but your lungs flooded with water.

Beau killed the engine in the parking lot. Both of you sat there in silence and petrified in time, two fossils buried deep in the earth and uncovered by archeologists with fine brushes millions of years later.

His gaze drifted up to the star-filled sky, green eyes locked on the North Star. He wished he could rewind the tape to that night, all the way back to the start where the two of you were still alive. His eyes then swerved to your hand that lay there untouched on the edge of your seat, his own palm twitching to hold it in his.

“You want me to come in with you?” Beau asked carefully.

It was the first time since you’d left the Sheriff’s Department that you looked at him again. Your eyes were pleading. “Of course I do. Please don’t go. Don’t let me do this alone.”

Then, you saw it – the flicker of relief that flashed through him. You recognized the insecurity and apprehension in his eyes. Your heart dropped. You had been so consumed by the news, you hadn’t noticed how he had spiraled. You clasped his hand tightly in yours. He squeezed it desperately back. He was drowning, and your touch was the lifeline he had been waiting for.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to see him. I don’t know if I’m ready to see you with him,” Beau confessed. He had endangered his best friend, deserted him, and left him to die. And that wasn’t even the worst he’d done. The worst was you.

“Me neither,” you admitted and interlaced your fingers with his. “We’ll take it step by step, okay?”

He nodded.

As the nurse sent you down the hallway to your believed-to-be-dead but actually only-long-lost husband, you didn’t know what to expect as your hand lingered on the door handle.

Beau could not only feel the tension in your body but physically see it. The stiffness in your neck and shoulders, the tremble in your hands, and the twitch in your eyes were a dead giveaway.

As you felt Beau behind you with a hesitant palm resting on your lower back, you wondered if you should tell Randy. You supposed you had to at some point. And suddenly, you felt overwhelmed.

You had been so focused on what awaited you in that room, you hadn’t thought about what your husband expected. Or was it ex? Did he know you had moved on? Were you still allowed to? Would he be happy for you? Would he let you go? Would he hate you for it? He probably would, considering who you ended up with. Or maybe you had it all wrong, and he would be relieved it was someone he loved, too. Wouldn’t you be if the roles were reversed?

His death had severed your ties, but now that he was back, were your vows, too? Did he even know everyone thought he was dead? Had you cheated? Was that what Diane had been trying to tell you? That you had sinned? That you were a liar? That you were awful? That you were a whore?

“Should I-, uhm…”

“No,” Beau answered your dangling question as if he could read your mind. He dropped his hand from your back and ceased all contact, even going as far as taking a step back. If you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve thought you were radioactive. That should’ve been answer enough. “Not yet, at least.”

“Okay.” The rejection hurt, but you understood. This was hard for him, too. Maybe even harder. You had to weather the storm alone, ship-wrecked and marooned on a desolate island.

“You wanna go in alone first?”

“No.” You shook your head and pushed down the handle, suddenly feeling more courageous and determined than before.

You barged in. Not gentle. Not slow. The urge to see him, face to face within the same four walls – after all these years, after all the tears – washed over you like heavy rainfall. You didn’t want to weather the storm – you wanted to be it. It felt safer than to seek shelter under driftwood.

Then, your heartbeats halted. The world around you paused. No murmurs in the hallway, no beeping machines or bustling footsteps. It felt like you were standing in the eye of the hurricane, everything else flying fast around you, but the center was calm.

As you stood there, feet calcified in front of his bed, a set of familiar whiskey-colored eyes found you. The slightly furrowed brow above them softened, his lips parted in awe. He still looked the same, only slightly aged by the years and what he’d been through.

“Randy?” Your voice was a quiet tremble but still filled the entire room.

A smile flickered alive on his face. “Hey,” he said, his own voice raspy and dry as if he hadn’t had water in several days. Deserted like he had been. His hazel eyes lit up, full of love and adoration. It was the same look he had always worn when he gazed at you. For a second, it felt like nothing had changed. It saturated your frozen heart with warmth and your gray and bleak vision with technicolor.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” you stammered with a thick swallow.

Randy snorted a bit. “Now, you know how I always felt,” he quipped, blinking the tears in his eyes away. He’d always been a ray of sunshine. He was light and sweet and good down to his bones. A part of you had expected that light to fade, though, considering what he must’ve experienced the last few years. But it hadn’t. He was still shining as bright as ever, his spirit untouched by the darkness that had tried to swallow him. “Are you just gonna stand there like a moron?”

A small laugh escaped you as tears began to sting your eyes when he spoke those same words you once had said to him. You wanted to cry when you heard them. What sliver of doubt remained in your mind that it wasn’t truly him vanished upon his words. Your feet wanted to move forward, but your heart tugged you back.

You glanced back over your shoulder and found Beau, standing with lovelorn patience by the door as he watched the exchange between you two. The muscle in your chest then stung, like someone had dropped it into a pit full of cacti. You felt torn in two, pulled into opposite directions.

Randy followed your gaze and finally noticed his second visitor, his brow shooting up in surprise. For a second, Beau felt nervous as he awaited a reaction. He expected resentment, hatred, blame, and anger. What he got, however, was a rising smile.

“Hey, man.” Randy seemed happy to see him, not an ounce of animosity detectable. “You two realize you’re staring, right?”

“‘S good to see you, Randy,” Beau managed to say and forced a quivering smile to his lips. And it wasn’t a lie. A big part of him was elated to have his best friend, his old partner, his brother back. But he couldn’t ignore the gnashing, lethal wound in the shape of you that Randy’s return caused.

Carefully, you stepped closer and let out a nervous breath as you sat down at the edge of his bed. He reached out and tenderly caressed your cheeks, brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear. A smile curved his lips as soon as he touched you again. It felt like he was holding a miracle while you looked at him like he was a ghost.

“You look good, sweetheart,” he said. His hand then slid down your arm to hold yours, fingers brushing over the one. His gaze dropped when he couldn’t feel what he was looking for, the tan line of the missing item around your ring finger still visible. Pensively, he licked his lips. “They told me everyone thought I was dead.”

“Yeah, uhm, that’s kinda my fault. I’m sorry, buddy,” Beau said and swallowed harshly. The sight in front of him almost took him out. Even though it was a familiar picture, one he had seen a million times before, seeing it now was a different story. After everything he knew, you in someone else’s arms that weren’t his felt like a bullet piercing through his chest. His heart was bleeding. “I thought you got shot.”

“It’s okay. Don’t blame yourself, man. It was crazy in there. It could’ve happened to anybody. I did get shot. Only the slug went straight through the shoulder,” Randy explained. “Cartel then took me to Mexico. Juárez.”

Your wide eyes wandered to Beau, the two of you sharing a horrified look. Randy had been right underneath your noses this entire time. You could’ve saved him.

“You were in Juárez? We were there, too,” you muttered in shocked realization.

“Oh, I know,” Randy said, surprising you both. Your heart beat faster, accelerating to lightning speed and close to jumping out of your chest. Did he already know about you and his best friend? But he answered your question before you could ask it. “Cartel talked about a task force moving in on them. I overheard them once. Said my old partner and wife were looking for me. When y’all got too close, though, they moved me further south. There’s nothin’ you coulda done.”

“What did they do to you? How are you still alive?” you asked and didn’t want to sound ungrateful for it, but you were completely baffled. You had too many questions racing through your mind.

Randy chuckled a little at your line of questioning. “You’re still the same.” He smiled and tore your heart apart, because you knew you weren’t. Not really. “I think they thought they could keep me for leverage. Trade me at some point? They held me in a basement at first till they moved me south. Kept me at farm of some cartel member. It wasn’t highly guarded, but even when I had opportunity to flee, I didn’t know where I was or where to go. I thought they’d either kill me or give me back at some point, but then months… years passed. I gave up hope they’d ever let me go. And then, one night they threw a bag over my head and I woke up in some weird bunker… in Montana. Apparently. Anyone wanna explain what I’m doing here? How did you guys get here so fast? They only brought me here a few hours ago. Had to convince them a little to find and call you since they thought I was dead.”

“I was already here for a case. There’s a crazy serial killer lady who took you. That’s who locked you into that bunker,” you explained and watched his brow crease.

“Huh.”

“I work Major Crimes now. It’s a long story,” you added quickly. You didn’t even know where to start. How could you recap three years?

“Really?” His smile was back. This time, it was a proud one. “That’s good. You always wanted that.”

“Yeah.” You blushed a little and gave him a small smile in return.

He squeezed your hand, his gaze flickering to your missing ring on your finger once more. “So, uhm… since everyone thought I was dead, I guess we’re not married anymore, huh?”

Your heart exploded like he had just deposited a grenade inside of it. You averted your gaze to your joined hands. “Uh, Randy…”

“No, hey, it’s okay, sweetheart,” he quickly soothed and chuckled to lift your worries, and you weren’t sure if it was a real smile or just one for your sake. “I’m just trying to catch up, you know? Get up to speed. ‘Sides, if we’re not married anymore, we could have a second wedding. Might be fun, right?”

Tears gathered in your eyes as you tried to smile through the pain. “Uh, yeah.” You nodded and hoped he couldn’t see your reluctance.

Randy then stretched his neck and pulled you closer, his lips meeting yours in a slow and chaste kiss that felt like your first. Tears of happiness mixed with sadness as they rolled down your cheeks. When Beau softly cleared his throat, you broke away from Randy, your cracked heart shattering into sharp daggers that sliced through your skin. What were you supposed to do, though? Reject the man you married because it would break the heart of the one you currently loved?

“I-, uh, I should go. Let you two catch up,” Beau said uncomfortably. The crestfallen look on his face destroyed you. “I’ll keep the press away from this for as long as I can. Lord knows they love a good back-from-the-dead story.”

“You can do that?” Randy arched a curious brow.

Beau pulled his jacket back a little and tapped the badge on his belt. “Kinda the sheriff here.”

“Wow, congrats, man. You deserve it,” Randy said with a genuinely happy grin. He seemed like a kid who was catching up with all his friends on the first day of school after summer break.

Beau gave him a tight smile that said he didn’t think he deserved it. But only you could read that one. “Uhm, thanks, bud. I see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Beau, wait–”

But he had rushed out of that room so fast, he couldn’t even hear you as the door fell shut behind him. You offered Randy the same tight-lipped smile and stroked his cheek. Your emotions were a mangled mess. A part of you was hauled back to the past, old feelings that you had buried deep coming back alive, while new ones reminded you that it wasn’t the same anymore.

“Give me a sec, okay? I’ll go talk to your doctor. See when we can get you outta here,” you said and waited for Randy’s nod of confirmation before you darted out of the room.

Your heart thrummed in your ribcage as you raced down the hospital’s corridors all the way to the parking lot where you finally caught up with Beau. He was on a fast-paced escape to his car before he stopped when you called his name.

“Beau, wait!”

As he spun around, he dragged a palm over his face in an attempt to wipe away the tears. But the evidence was still visible, his eyes red and distraught. “You should go back, Y/N. He needs you.”

The heart in your throat caused you to choke. “So do you. I’m so sorry,” you said, sniffling as tears flowed down your cheeks. But as you stepped forward to hold him, he took a step back.

Everything in you wanted to break through the fence he had set up, full-throttle with a lead foot on the gas, but you thought it was best to respect his wishes for now. You didn’t even know where your head was and wanted to avoid hurting him more.

“Here, uhm, you should have this back.” He fished out your wedding ring from his back pocket and dropped it into your palm, the quick brush of his skin tearing you apart even more. The golden band suddenly felt heavier than it ever had. You didn’t even know when he had grabbed it from his desk drawer, but the foresight scared you. He let out a humorless chuckle as the sadness brimmed in his green eyes. “Not the ring I thought I’d give you…”

Your lips parted, your brow lifting in realization. Whatever dusted remnants were left of your heart plummeted. “Beau…”

“Don’t. ‘S okay,” he wrung out with a doleful smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, alright? Call if you need somethin’.”

With a passive nod, he jumped into his Jeep. You clutched the ring in your hand so tightly it almost burned through your skin as you watched him drive off.

Beau uncapped his third beer of the night (plus two tumblers of whiskey and a shot of his old friend Don Julio) as he sat on the bed in his trailer. A pile of your clothes still lay on the floor to his right, your favorite coffee mug stood in the kitchen sink, and your shampoo was stored in the shower. It felt like you hadn’t left, even though you had.

He told himself it was the torture he deserved for all of his sins. And he swallowed it all down – the hurt, the heartbreak, the jealousy, the possessiveness. He had no right to feel those things. Not anymore. You weren’t his. You never were.

How long did he have with you this time around? Five weeks?

Suddenly, he regretted leaving Houston, regretted leaving you. He wasted a whole year that he could’ve spent loving you. He always thought, in the end, he'd have more time. Eternity, even. How fucking foolish was that?

The headlights and sounds of a car in front of his home drew his attention to the window, shadows and lights dancing along the walls of his trailer. He couldn’t see his visitor, but considering it was in the middle of the night, he assumed it was either Jenny or Cassie checking up on him. He had texted them to let them know what was going on. But as he opened the door, the sight left him speechless.

“Y/N…” Your name fell from his lips like you were an angel he had prayed for. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if his eyes were seeing things right, or if you were a booze- and depression-induced hallucination. You wouldn’t be the first ghost that came back to haunt him, after all.

“You ain’t nothing.”

With those words still floating in the night air, you cupped his neck and crashed your lips against his, kissing him fervently with everything you had as tears streamed down your cheeks. He returned the kiss just as passionately, although you could feel a part of him fighting against it. But his large hands grabbed your waist and pulled you flush against him, the kiss lasting till both of you were bluer than the sky. You didn’t let go of him, though, hands holding onto his shirt, too scared he would slip through the cracks of your fingers if you did.

“Y/N, I can’t…”

“I love you,” you interjected his hesitance with firmness and gripped him tighter, your gaze drilling into him like you hoped your words would. “You think I’d just forget? You think my feelings for you just vanish into thin air? It doesn’t work that way. I can’t just snap my fingers and stop loving you. I can't go back to the way things were. I know you think me and Randy are some great love story, but so are you and I. Look, when he died, I grieved that loss and it felt like I was dying, too. I never thought life would be... exciting... and fun... and happy... and so full of love again. And then… I-I fell in love with you, and my life somehow started again. And I know this whole situation is fucked up and confusing and impossible. And I don’t know what to do… I don't know what the right thing is here. But I do know you feel right, and I can’t just pretend you and me and everything good that came with it never existed. I don’t want to. Please, just… I need you, Beau. You said you wouldn't leave again. You're not making things better by walking away...”

With a stretch of your toes, your nose grazed his before you gently claimed his plump, soft lips once more. Your tear-stained cheeks met the roughness of his beard. The kiss started ginger and careful, giving him time to withdraw if he wanted to. But he didn’t. His tongue slipped inside your mouth and stoked the flames of the fire that burned for him deep within your soul. Inhibitions were set ablaze as the kiss turned searing. He hoisted you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his middle as he carried you inside.

The trailer’s peaceful silence was disturbed by panting breaths, a pathway of clothes leading from the entrance to the bed. You peeled off his shirt, and he slid off yours over your head. You unclasped your bra and tore it off, pressing your tits against his bare chest as your lips tried to remain connected to each other through it all. By the time he sat down on the edge of the mattress with you on top, only two naked bodies seeking friction remained.

You wanted to feel him everywhere, wanted him to fill you and make you whole again until you stopped feeling like you were breaking apart at the seams. Hands roamed and explored as tongues mingled and savored tastes. As you straddled his muscular thighs, his arms wound around your middle and kept you firmly pressed against him, his hold on you strong as his fingers dented your flesh. You hoped it was enough to leave bruises behind. You never wanted to forget him, wishing his marks would be permanent ink on your skin.

“I need you,” you murmured against his thoroughly kiss-swollen lips, his cock rubbing against your soaking core as you gently rocked your hips.

“I want you,” you assured him, your mouth trailing a path of featherlight kisses along his jaw and down to his throat, his groan vibrating against your soft lips. One hand steadied itself on his broad shoulder as your other one fisted his hard, throbbing length and positioned it at your entrance, his cockhead gliding through your slick and teasing you till you shuddered with wanton need to feel him inside of you.

“I love you,” you whispered and gasped as you sank down, sheathing his thick cock in your warmth as your velvety walls welcomed him. With a needy and yet tender kiss, you soothed his grunt when he was fully inside you and prodded at your cervix. “Wanna make you feel good, okay?”

He nodded and squeezed his eyes shut. “Fuck, Y/N, don’t do this to me if you’re gonna leave,” he pleaded, his gravelly voice laced with desperation and pain. His hand softly caressed your face as he rested his forehead against yours. His love for you radiated in his green eyes like kryptonite.

You cupped his bearded cheeks and forced him to look at you, lifting his chin to find your eyes. “I’m not leaving you, okay?”

“But–”

You kissed him before he could bring forth all the reasons why you should, but you didn’t care. Your heart was the North Star, and your heart had led you to him. When you left the hospital, there was nowhere else you wanted to go, no one you wanted to see more. Your heart had only ached for him.

You were finally home, and now that you were back in the arms where you belonged, you kissed him so hard till his mind quieted down to a soft lullaby. You kissed him so hungrily till his cock twitched inside of you because you were the only one he wanted, too. You kissed him so passionately he felt your love for him seep into his own heart.

As you began to roll your hips, he met you thrust by thrust as he pounded up into you. His massive hands and sinful mouth roamed every inch of your body. Palms groped your tits and fingers tickled your spine. Lips kissed your throat and tongue massaged your nipples. Teeth grazed your flesh and beard burned your skin.

Your nails dug into the thick muscles on his shoulders and scraped his scalp as his cock split you open with each pump. His girth tore you apart, each time you eased back down a new pleasurable burn coursing through you as your walls stretched to accommodate all of him.

Your pace rose with the tides of your hips, your thighs flexing as your cunt stroked his cock and came closer to the finish line. Beau buried his head in the crook of your neck, writhing and groaning underneath you. His fingers bit into your flesh, surely leaving bruises behind this time. Your tits rubbed against his chest, and you could feel his muscles tensing and straining underneath your fingertips with each bounce. He was barely holding on.

“Come for me, baby,” you beckoned him, feeling your own orgasm approach. The fuse was sparked and burned a path right to your explosive core. “I love you…”

“Fuck!” Beau cried out and spilled into you, his body trembling in your grasp. Those words were all it took to tip him over the edge.

You came with a thundering moan. His release triggered your own, your pussy pulsing violently around him and milking his cock for all he’d got. His cum mixed with your arousal and gushed out of you, trickling down your thighs and coating even his balls. Your thighs shook with exhaustion as you let yourself fall down on him, his arms catching you and holding you close.

Still panting, his mouth found yours in the dark. His thumbs stroked your flushed cheeks, the rest of his fingers dangling in your hair, the grip soft turned bruising as he kept you lip-tied to him, the kiss tender turned rough.

His nose brushed yours as he looked deeply at you. You could see the despair drowning in his pine green eyes, his emotions overtaking him.

“Pick me. Don’t go,” he begged in a harsh whisper, your flushed face in his warm palms.

You placed a gentle kiss on his lips and nodded. “I’m not going anywhere, corazón.”

Chapter 10: It Matters – DECEMBER 06

Phew, writing that hospital scene nearly killed me 😮‍💨 Next up, we have even more drama as the awkward throuple reaches a boiling point...

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