#okay I need to post this bc I’m. going to explode into a million shattered parts if I don’t

[crowrelli]

.

[lonelyreputation]

Trouble in Canada • TWO

A/N: Thanks for your patience & thanks for all your support 🥰 Only 3 months late with this 🥴 Can’t believe I’m posting TiC2 AGAIN wow I’ll forever love this series bc of you all 🤧🤧

THANKS A MILLION A MILLION FOR ALL YOUR KIND WORDS!! I love you all with all my heart 🥺🤧

TROUBLE IN CANADA PT. 1 | MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂

Warnings: Arguing, angst, few swear words here and there

WC: 10.1K // Angst

“We need to talk.”

The cup of tea you held slipped through your hands and shattered.

Normally when a glass shattered in your apartment, Shawn would always rush forward.  He would always push you back, no walking around without shoes, he would say out of care as he kneeled down to pick up the minuscule shards of glass, don’t want you getting glass stuck in your foot.

But the two of you just stood there, looking at each other with different emotions swimming in your eyes, as the ceramic mug lay destroyed at your feet.

You had never seen your husband lack emotion in his eyes.  His eyes were always your favorite aspect of him, they were one of the first things about him that you fell in love with.  His eyes that normally held love, care, and compassion were now dark, empty, and held a hint of anger.

While his eyes held negativity, you felt the back of your eyes prick with tears, throat tight with sadness.  But you were looking at him with eyes wide of desperation––full of questioning and heartbreak–––because why on earth wasn’t he wearing his wedding ring.

You knelt to the ground, getting to work on picking up the broken mug, because you didn’t want him getting glass stuck in his foot.  It felt as if you were getting a glimpse into how this conversation with your husband was going to go; you trying to pick up the remnants of your heart that you could already feel breaking.

Once you got the small pieces together, you walked over to the trash can with Shawn’s eyes following you with every move.  You brushed the pieces in the bin and took the broom from the closet to dispose of the larger breaks.  You held eye contact with him as you walked back out into the entry area of your apartment.

His eyes trailed your every movement with skepticism, like he didn’t trust you.

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to keep your emotions at bay, as the broken pieces of the mug made a clanking noise when you swept them together.  You looked up at Shawn through your eyelashes and saw his eyebrows pulled together as if he was thinking of what to say.  

Frankly, you didn’t think you were able to say anything.  He was the one who said that the two of you needed to talk, you had no idea what you wanted to talk about. You figured that you would be listening to more of his side of the conversation than talking.

When did he take off his wedding ring?

“That was the mug I got for you on our second Valentine’s Day together,” his words were only slightly louder than the broken pieces falling into the bin, his voice cracked, “And you––you’re throwing it away?”

You stopped dumping the glass pieces into the trash, and looked up at him with sad, questioning eyes, “It’s…broken?”

Placing the dustpan on the counter, you walked out from the kitchen and stood in front of Shawn, and for the first time since before you started dating all those years ago, you didn’t know what to say.

“Are you not even going to try and fix it?!”

The pain behind his voice sounded like he was talking about so much more than a broken mug.

Cautiously, you took a step forward, eyes glancing down at his bare hand, then stared into his fuming eyes, “Why…” You gulped, eyes returning down to where his wedding ring should be.

Why was he not wearing his wedding ring?

In theory, the question shouldn’t be a hard one to ask him.  He was your husband, there were no secrets between the two of you in the decade you’ve known each other.  There were no secrets between the two of you as you slept next to each other at night, his arm thrown around you to keep you safe; there were never any secrets.

But now? Now you didn’t know.  You didn’t know the words to string together in order to ask him why he took off the ring you slid on his finger the day you promised to love each other for eternity.  

The nausea built up in your stomach slowly, bile churning with each thought that passed through your mind.    

What made him not want to wake up with you every morning?

Nothing was settling right in your stomach.  Nothing about this was a case of, oh, sorry I forgot to return your calls I was too busy.  He had dodged your calls, purposefully avoided you––his wife––and now he was standing in the middle of your home not wearing his ring.

Your house didn’t feel like much of a home anymore.

For a moment you pushed your doubts aside.  You tried not to focus on the pain in your heart as you shifted your focus on something else you needed to discuss with Shawn; your cooking instructor.  

The thought of Ethan had been weighing down on your mind ever since your last lesson.  You lightly touched your wrist, remembering the way his hand tightly circled around your wrist that day.  The glower of possessiveness he held in his eyes when he looked at you caused you to shudder at the memory.  The feeling of embarrassment flooded your entire body as the phantom pain of hot oils dripping down your back as the whole class stood and watched.

You wished you had confided in Shawn about the uncomfortable actions Ethan demonstrated during each lesson.  

Pushing your crumbling heart to the back of your mind you took a deep breath, anxiety crawling up your throat, “I need to––um––I want to tell you something.”

Feeling nervous in front of your husband wasn’t uncommon. Everyday you had spent with him felt like the day of your first date; on your toes, giddy about what the rest of the day would bring––excited to spend the day with him.  It’s what made you fall in love with him at a rapid pace.  But while you were accustomed to the affect of your heart skipping a beat whenever you were around him, this was a different kind of nervousness.

This nervousness felt more like knowingly walking into a trap instead of a blissful evening with your husband.

With another deep breath, you looked down at your sock clad feet, not wanting to see his reaction, “There was um––Something happened when you were on tour–––”

“Can’t even look me in the fucking eyes when you say it?”

You whipped your head up, eyes wide, and for the first time you were frightened of your husband.  His tone was lethal, words sharp, as his jaw was set, “I would’ve thought you could at least do that when you tell me––”

You took a step backward, “Tell you what?”

For a second the animosity he held in his eyes fell and was replaced with desperation, “Don’t,” his voice cracked for the second time as he sniffled, “Don’t make me say it.”

While you felt your heartbreak at the hopelessness in his tone, he sounded exactly how you felt on the inside.

“Shawn,” you said his name carefully, afraid that if you said one wrong word he would explode like a time bomb, “I––I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He let out a scoff, “Okay, then,” he crossed his arms over his chest and sent you a glare so strong it felt like you were slammed into the wall behind you, “Go on.”

You knew this was something important you had to share with him.  He’s your husband, you thought to yourself, he’s here to protect you––to keep you safe––you should tell him.  But everything about him seemed off.  His stance was guarded, arms stiffly crossed over his chest, as he coldly stared at you.  

“Um, well,” you nervously twisted your sweaty hands together in front of you, “When you were on tour there was this…guy,” you shuddered at the thought of Ethan, ‘And he––There was a situation––”

“Just fucking say it,” He sounded tired, but his words were still powerful, “Fucking say it and then we can be done.”

His words felt like a dagger piercing your chest.  All of the oxygen left your lungs as you were left breathless, hand pressed against your chest to shield you in any way from his dismissive tone, “What?” You gasped out, “Be done with what?”

“You know.”

“I don’t––”

“You,” his hand reached into his over the shoulder travel bag and pulled out a magazine, “Know.” His voice was laced with venom as he threw the magazine at the floor in front of you, “You fucking know.”

Gently, you bent down and picked up the edgeworn magazine, and it automatically opened up to an article.  The pages looked crinkled as if someone had read these pages until they had the words memorized. The top right edge of the glossy paper looked like it had been folded over repeatedly. And you didn’t miss the tear stains that smudged some of the inked words.

You read the bold headline––Trouble In Canada–-over a few times before your eyes darted around the two page spread that contained an article and blurry pictures of you with Ethan; specifically on the last day of class where you were pressed up against him.  The angle of the picture made you look guilty of an act that you never thought of committing against your husband.  Your breath, along with your heart, stopped beating as you glanced up at Shawn before skimming the article.

He misses Y/n––Below, pictures of Y/n and a mystery man have appeared––Everyone around him knows how much he loves his wife––Noticable changed––It’s not going to end well.

It’s not going to end well.

You clenched the magazine in your hand, “Who’s the source?”

“That’s what you’re concerned about?!” Shawn let out a laugh, “Not that I had to find out through my mother texting me a link to an article about how my wife was having an affair?!”

Your eyes widened as the magazine dropped to the ground.  

An affair.  He thought you had an affair.

Your eyes darted back to Shawn’s hands.  He nervously rubbed his thumb along the underside of the finger where his wedding band used to take up space.  He thought you were having an affair with a person who made your skin crawl.

“Who––”

“Does it matter?!” He threw his hands up as he yelled before his voice quieted down, repeating the question under his breath, “Does it matter?”

You shook your head rapidly as you walked forward, wanting to reassure him that the article had it all wrong, “Shawn, that’s not––It’s a shitty tabloid, Ethan isn’t––”

“Don’t,” You stopped walking forward and started walking backward as Shawn angrily pointed a finger at you, words laced with malice, “Say his name.”

You felt your eyes begin to water, chest heaving up and down as your worst nightmare was slowly starting to become a reality, “He’s not––That isn’t––Those pictures are not what it looks like.”

“They seem pretty self-explanatory,” His voice fell in sadness, “I would wait hours to call you––”

“Shawn, listen––”

“Hours,” he cut you off, bottom lip quivering, “to hear about your day.  I would wait hours to hear your voice calm me down because touring is stressful and you were the only person who was capable of calming me down––”

“Were?”

“––Only to find out that you’ve been running around with someone else!”

“You stopped picking up my calls!” Your voice was pleading with him, “I stayed up for hours at night wondering what I did––”

“You were having an affair!” He matched the volume of your yells, “Why would I want to talk to you?!”

He wasn’t listening to you.  It seemed as if he was so caught up in the narrative he created in his head that he didn’t want to listen to you.  He thought it was better to believe the heartbreak of you running into another person’s arms while he was the one who was left in the dust.

“Were you that lonely,” Shawn narrowed his eyes, voice gravelly low, “That you went to someone else? Christ––We have the money that you could’ve used to come out and see me! Or have you had enough of me?”

“Do you even hear yourself––”

“Was being married to me too much?” He let out a sarcastic laugh, “After years together, you can’t even handle a single year of marriage. What ever happened to for better or for worse––”

“I didn’t have an affair!”

You stomped your foot on the ground as if you were a little girl throwing a tantrum.  Your voice was high, throat scratchy from trying to hold back your tears as Shawn threw countless accusations your way.  But when Shawn accused you of making a mockery of your wedding vows to him, that’s when he crossed the line.

The room was silent, your words ringing through the apartment just as loud as the ringing in your ears.  Shawn looked shocked, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide at your outburst.  Never once had you screamed about something so desperately.  But this was your marriage.  This was your marriage to the person you thought would love and trust you until the end of your life.  And you thought he would love and trust you until the end of his life.

“I didn’t,” your bottom lip trembled as you sucked in a breath, a few tears leaking from your eyes, “I would never,” you hastily wiped away the falling tears on your cheek with the heel of your palm, “Do you honestly think that little of me?”

Shawn opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.  His cruel words still floated around in the air.  After all the love songs he wrote about you not once did you think he was capable of saying words as degrading as the ones he yelled at your face.

“That guy,” you closed your eyes and brought your hands up to your forehead, trying to subdue the raging pain in your forehead from all the yelling, “Was the cooking instructor Jessie and I had for our cooking lessons.”

“I don’t want to know––”

“He,” you cut Shawn off before he could find another way to belittle your feelings, “Wasn’t very…helpful as a teacher.” You bit the inside of your cheek, mirroring Shawn’s position and crossing your arms across your chest as you bounced your leg, “Sometimes he would––”

“God,” the pain in Shawn’s voice struck a chord with you, “Do you really think I want to know what you two did together?!”

You stood there frozen, not being able to wrap your head around the situation you found yourself in with Shawn, as the two of you looked into each other’s eyes with opposite emotions.  

Your eyes were wide as they overflowed with desperation, terrified that your marriage was about to come to an end; they poured over with hurt from the devastating allegations Shawn proposed.

Shawn’s eyes were narrowed at you as they seethed with aggression, on the edge of becoming unhinged at the thought of someone stealing the love of his life right under his nose; they overflowed with untrust.  

But both of your eyes were both filled to the brim with love, not understanding how the person they vowed to love and to treasure for the rest of their lives, could hurt the other so viciously and carelessly.

“He––I’m your wife, Shawn,” you choked on a sob, “I’m your wife and you’re not listening to me!”

“You haven’t said anything!” His eyes were red as he cried right back at you.

“How am I supposed to tell my husband that another man made me feel uncomfortable when he’s accusing me of sleeping with them?!”

Shawn looked like he had more hatred to spew planned out in his head, but once the truth to your story came out, he was at a loss for words.  His shoulders dropped as fast as his face and an audible noise escaped his throat.  

A new wave of tears threatened to spill over as he looked at you, “That’s––What did––What?”

You bit your bottom lip, nodding your head as your eyes refocused on the lack of his wedding band on his finger.  You toyed with the diamond of your engagement ring, “But apparently I had an affair.”

Since the first time he had come back, Shawn was silent.  He was as silent as the moment he walked through the door and said words that shattered your world; we need to talk.  

He was as silent as the day of your wedding, speechless as you walked down the aisle more than ready to spend the rest of your life with him; I love you, he had said through tears, I’ll love you with all my heart until my last breath.

And as you stood in front of him, at a loss of words for yourself, you still wanted him to love you even after accusing you of the most heinous act in a marriage.

Another pregnant pause; your teeth clattered together as you failed to hold back your cries while Shawn’s fists shook at his sides.

Wordlessly, you brushed past him and picked your phone off the counter rushing to the door.  You threw on your converse, only having time to tuck the laces under the tongue, not wanting to spend anymore time in Shawn’s presence.  It felt as if the walls of your marriage was collapsing -––Your lungs were collapsing as you felt sobs blocking your airway––And with each step you took further away from Shawn, you felt your world crumble a little bit more.

You plucked a random jacket from the coat rack and before you even registered Shawn trying to call out your name, you slammed the door shut.  You dug your hands deep in the pockets as the brisk Toronto air hit your face.

Your rings were burning a hole into your skin.

A twenty minute walk on the streets of Toronto would normally relax you, but normally your hand would be hooked around Shawn’s arm as the two of you laughed on your way to a restaurant.  The streets were tainted with memories of him as you rounded the corner of a familiar street.

“Y/n?”

You sniffled as you spoke into the callbox, “Hey–Jessie? Can––Could you buzz me–me–In?”

The sound of the door unlocking brought more comfort to you than your husband had in the past month.

Not being able to stand still in an elevator by yourself, you opted to walk up six flights of stairs.  You had spent countless days at Jessie’s apartment whenever Shawn was away on tour; from when you first started seeing each other, toward the end of his Illuminate Tour, you had spent countless nights sleeping over at her cozy Toronto apartment.  The two of you would stay up late with ice-cream as you scoured every update account to get a glimpse of the boy who would text you after every show saying how he wished you were with him.

You knocked once on the door before it swung open to show a confused Jessie in a bathrobe and facemask, she tilted her head, “Lover’s quarrel?”

You brought a hand up to cover your mouth, but no amount of muffling could cover up the sound of your uncontrollable cries of grief.  Jessie’s eyes widened as she ushered you into her apartment and quickly shut the door as you fell into her arms before she turned the lock of the deadbolt with a soft click.

You stood in the entryway of her apartment, staining your best friend’s shirt with tears, as you gripped onto the back of her shirt for dear life.  Because the lifeline you normally had in your husband was thrown overboard.

Forming a coherent sentence was impossible with the sobs that tore through your chest.  You tried your hardest to say that; no, this wasn’t just a lover’s quarrel, it was something bigger.  It was something bigger than Jessie realized until she was able to decode a sentence that you kept repeating out loud until it became as familiar to you as a prayer.

He doesn’t want to be married to me anymore.

///

A few days had passed since you hastily made an exit from your apartment.  You thought the sinking feeling would leave once you were away from your husband’s presence, but instead, your heart only ached more.

Shawn didn’t have much time left in Canada before he had to head back on the road, and it caused your chest to tighten up every time you thought of him leaving you again.

But why did it matter; you thought to yourself as you were wrapped up in a blanket, knees tucked up to your chest as you leaned on the far side on Jessie’s couch.  Your hands cradled the lukewarm tea, it being the only thing that gave you warmth, he doesn’t want to be married to me anymore.

You’ve only moved from your position on the couch to go walk to the bathroom, your socks gliding on the hardwood floor because you didn’t have the energy to pick up your feet.  

It was lunch time, and just like all other three meals throughout the day, Jessie brought over the meal she prepared you and softly placed it on the coffee table with a meek smile and somber eyes, “Tomato soup.”

You nodded your head and glanced at the soup in the yellow bowl.  You took another sip of your tea.

“Y/n,” Jessie breathed out your name, trying to get your attention, as she knelt down in front of you.  But you continued to stare past her shoulder, eyes focusing on the window as the pitter patter of rain softly hit the glass

She repeated your name once more, a comforting hand on your knee, but you slowly shook your head with a wobble of your chin.  The only time you had spoken to Jessie was when you first arrived at her place and fell into her arms as you sobbed about your ruined marriage.

You were silent, just like Shawn’s communication with you since you fled your home.  

He came home without wearing his wedding ring.

Your hands tighten around your mug, tea now cold, as you bit the inside of your cheek until you tasted something metallic.  You had no verbal answer for her, just a shake of your head as you held your breath, trying to rid yourself of the lump in your throat.

The all too familiar sting behind your eyes crept back like an old friend.  You shut your eyes tight as you gasped out for a breath.

“He’s going to divorce me, Jess.”

Her hand on your knee fell limp as you brought a hand up to cover the choked sob that escaped past your lips, “I love him so much and he’s gonna divorce––”

“He would never do that to you,” Jessie’s voice was confident, something you hadn’t felt about yourself, or your marriage, in months, “He wouldn’t even dream of that.”

You removed your hand from your mouth, a gut wrenching sob shattering through your chest as you tried to wipe away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling, “You didn’t see him––The––The things he said to me,” Jessie took the mug form your hands as you wrapped your arms around your bent legs, tucking your head into your knees, “I’m so scared.”

It was a whisper, but the despair in your voice was not lost on your best friend.  

“I––” Jessie didn’t know how she felt.  She knew she felt her own heart breaking for her best friend––for Shawn as well––because she had been there with them since the start of their relationship.  She was the one who introduced you two. But she also felt anger, a betrayal, deep within her bones that made her blood boil, “––I need to pick up groceries.”

Jessie didn’t want to leave her best friend, but she wanted to pay a visit to the man who broke his promise––to cherish you forever––to her best friend.

She reluctantly stood up, staring down at you with tears in her own eyes, as you kept your head buried between your knees and the blanket.  She knelt down to press a featherlight kiss to the top of your head, whispering, “get some rest.”

She didn’t know if you would listen to her, but she noticed the exhaustion behind the heartbreak in your eyes.  And with a slight nod, you agreed that you needed sleep, readjusted your position on the couch and tried to keep your eyes shut tight so as to not let any more tears stain the blanket.

Once Jessie was positive you were asleep, she slipped on her sneakers and left her place without a jacket.  She needed the cold Canadian air to cool down the heat she felt in her body for being so angry.

The twenty minutes it would normally take her to walk to your apartment took her only thirteen minutes.  Jessie breezed through the lobby, impatiently tapped her foot as she rode the elevator up, and harshly knocked on the door until it was opened by a wide eye Shawn.

“Y/n?” Shawn asked desperately before he even registered who was at the door.

Jessie rolled her eyes and pushed past him, “Do you think she would knock on her own door?”  She scoffed as she looked around the apartment; pillows thrown astray, dishes piled up in the sink, and ruffled blankets on the couch telling her that he hasn’t been sleeping in their bed, “What the hell is your problem?!”

Shawn didn’t register her question as he continued to stare out the door, looking up and down the hallway.  Jessie knew exactly who he was waiting for, and with a sigh, she softened her voice, “She’s not with me.”

His head whipped back to Jessie as if he forgot she was there, “She––Are you––Has she been staying with you?”

All the anger came flooding back into her system as she narrowed her eyes at his question, “You would know if you tried calling her.”

He slowly closed the door and leaned up against it with a defeated sigh, “I knew she didn’t want to hear from me––”

“Are you kidding?” Jessie clenched her fists at her sides in anger, “You were the only person she wanted to hear from.”  

Shawn closed his eyes and rubbed the corners of them, not knowing what to say in response.  Jessie knew she didn’t have to tell him how terrible he acted toward his wife, she could see it with every defeated slump of his shoulders, the way their usually neat apartment was a mess, and his bloodshot eyes.

“How is she?”

Jessie rolled her eyes again, ignoring his question because she knew that he already knew the answer to it, “You have some nerve coming home to her without your ring.”

Shawn’s melancholy composure dropped and she saw his eyes narrow in irritation, “How else was I supposed to react?”  He let out a bitter laugh, “A whole magazine spread came out showing my wife with another man––”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Jessie walked up to him and poked his chest hard, “What happened to you always telling her not to believe everything she read in the papers about you? Every time you were seen with a different girl, every rumor of ‘sparks flying’ after you sang a duet with a different girl––What about everything she had to put up with with you?””

“That’s different because she knew those weren’t true––”

“So what about this?!” Jessie blew up and threw her hands in the air, “This is no different.  This is the first time she’s been caught up in something like this.”

“She was jumpy the last time I spoke to her on the phone!” Shawn defended himself, “She sounded like she didn’t want me to come home and after I saw those pictures,” Shawn swallowed as he looked down at the floor.  He felt his stomach drop as if he remembered the moment his mother texted him a link to the article.

“Everything just made sense,” Shawn whispered as he shook his head.

There was silence between the two of them for a moment before Jessie spat out, “That’s a weak excuse,” and Shawn raised his head up, eyebrows pulled together, “Did you forget what’s written on the inside of your ring?”

Shawn looked down in shame and shook his head.  He knew exactly what was written on the inside of his ring––with your handwriting––and the same thing was written on the inside of your ring; with his handwriting.

With all my heart.

Out of habit, Shawn brought his fingers to touch his ring finger.  But unlike all the other times the tips of his fingers would softly brush against the ring finger on his left hand in remembrance to you, he didn’t feel the cool metal of his ring.  Just his bare finger.

“How could you?” Jessie’s voice was barely above a whisper.  Shawn wasn’t her husband, so she couldn’t even comprehend the amount of betrayal you felt, but with being his friend since he was thirteen, she was at a loss of words, “For as long as I’ve known you…I’ve never been more disappointed in you in my life.”

Shawn ran a hand through his hair, “Jess––“

Jessie shook her head, “She always let you explain yourself––Most times she didn’t even think twice if you were out with someone else––Because she trusted you.”  Shawn nodded solemnly, “But you didn’t give her the same respect.”

“I know.”

Without sparing his feelings, because Jessie didn’t think he deserved any sympathy, she said words that knew would cut Shawn to his core, “She thinks you’re going to divorce her.”

His mouth dropped, all expressions of guilt left his face, as he stared at his friend.  He didn’t even know what he was feeling.  All he knew was that he swore his heart stopped beating and that the ringing in his ears was becoming relentless.

“She––Why would––That never––“ his hands started shaking, as he felt his eyes well up with tears, because he never wanted to picture his life without you.  His voice cracked, “Divorce?”

With a sharp nod, Jessie crossed her arms over her chest, “Well, when your husband comes home without his wedding ring on, what other conclusion is she going to come to?”

Shawn shook his head, “That wasn’t my––“

“You took your ring off,” Jessie’s eyes looked at his ring finger, noticing a sliver of his finger a share lighter than the rest of his skin tone, “I’m not married, but I know you’re not supposed to do that if you love your spouse.”

“I do love her,” Shawn spoke angrily.

Jessie tapped her foot, “I’m not leaving until you put your ring back on.”  She watched as he dug his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and pulled out a golden band.  She smiled as Shawn slipped it back into place, “You two need to talk,” she said as if it was the easiest thing in the world, “You need to listen to her because there’s more to those pictures.”

Shawn nodded his head, like he was a kid listening to his mom telling him to clean his room.  He knew they needed to talk, he knew that he messed up, but he was also terrified of what you were going to say to him.  He had never thought of divorcing you, but if the thought was swirling around in your mind…Would you want to divorce him?

“I have to run some errands,” Jessie smiled at the ring that was back in its place on his finger, “I’ll be gone for about an hour–––“

Before Jessie could finish her sentence, Shawn turned around on his heel, running to the front door to fling it open.  She heard his footsteps race down the hall and smiled to herself even more.  

Shawn was lucky that she knew where their spare key was hidden so she could lock up behind her.

///

You knew Jessie waited until she thought you were asleep to leave to pick up groceries.  So you tried your hardest to fake your rest, and when you heard the door softly close behind her, you opened your eyes and continued to stare out the window.  You didn’t have a lot of motivation, sometimes just thinking was too much energy, so you only tried to focus on the sounds of rain hitting the window and the low rumble of thunder you heard.

You don’t know how long you stayed like that for, but you started to get thirsty, and without Jessie here to refill your tea, you had no choice but to make yourself a cup.  Begrudgingly, you sat up, keeping the blanket wrapped around you like a cape, and made your way into the kitchen.  Filling the tea kettle up with water, you placed it on the stove.  Picking at the hangnails on your fingers, you lifted your head up when heard the door abruptly open.

Even if it had been Jessie returning with groceries, you still would have stayed mute upon her re-entry, and when your eyes landed on the person you least expected to see, you still stayed quiet.

He was out of breath, cheeks flushed red as his chest heaved, but you didn’t say a word to him.  You only listened to the low rumble of water boiling in the tea kettle.

He didn’t say anything either.  He was trying to communicate with his eyes; wide and hopeful that you would forgive him for being an idiot.  But you stared at him with a blank expression.

“Did you run here?”

Shawn nodded as he exhaled, “I––Jessie said you were here.”

You quirked an eyebrow, and pulled the blanket tighter around your body.  Not saying anything in response, you diverted your eyes down to the white kettle.

As you stood in the kitchen with your husband, you had never felt more uncomfortable in your life.  You never thought there would be a time you didn’t feel comfortable in his presence, just seeing him through FaceTime would be enough to make you smile; but as you stood in front of him for the first time since you saw him without his ring, you didn’t want to see him.

Your eyes were focused hard on the kettle, channeling all of your anger to the boiling water, “Thought the next time I would hear from you was going to be with Brian serving me divorce papers.”

It was a low blow, and you heard the sharp intake of breath from him, but you didn’t care.  He made you feel like hell for the past month of him ignoring you and then blowing up in your face, not giving yourself a chance to explain your situation to him.

“I would never––You know I would never do that.”

“Do I?” You bit your bottom lip, “I never thought you’d take off your ring.”

That cut Shawn off from saying whatever he planned because you had a point.  He never thought he would take off his ring, but he did.  He took it off, and at the time, he didn’t understand the consequences that would come with it when he returned to you.  He thought he knew everything by just looking at those pictures.  He thought the marriage was over before he stepped foot back into your home.

Hastily, Shawn lifted his left hand, the gold ring was dull under the kitchen lights, “I put–––“ he stopped talking when he saw you lightly touch the kettle with your left hand.  You only brought your hand out of the blanket for half a second, but that half a second was more than enough time for him to realize what the worst sight in the world was, “Your––You took off your rings.”

You retracted your hand back into the blanket and glared at him, “I wasn’t the first.”

“That’s not fair,” Shawn’s words were cold, “There was proof that you could’ve been––”

“Could’ve been what?” You reached up into the cabinet to grab a tea bag, “Cheating on you? Unfaithful? In a relationship with another man––”

“Stop!” He yelled as he pressed his palms against his head, eyes shut tight.  He’d been tortured with the thought of you being with someone else while he was away, he didn’t want to imagine it even more, “Jessie told me that it wasn’t fair to not let you––”

“Oh, so you listened to her and not me?” You shot back at him, forgetting about your tea. “Should I be worried about that?  Hm?  You and Jessie––”

“Now you’re just being over dramatic,” Shawn rolled his eyes.

You felt the anger bubble up in the pit of your stomach like the tea that started to lowly whistle, “No,” you raised your voice to match his, “being over dramatic was taking off your fucking ring––”

“I put it back on!” Shawn yelled as he held up his hand again, pointing to the ring on his finger, “I put it back on for you––”

“That’s rich,” you laughed out, “Because if you hadn’t dodged my calls you wouldn’t have taken it off in the first place.”

He clenched his jaw, “Well, if you didn’t sound like you didn’t want me to come home we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“If I…” Your voice cracked as you thought back to all the times Ethan made advances on you, where he made you feel uncomfortable, and it was as if you were transported to your last lesson.

With a deep breath, all anger you felt towards your husband disappeared.  You were now more sad than anything else.  Sad that he wasn’t taking time to listen about how those pictures came about.

You repeated yourself with a sniffle, “If I…” you had to pause again, feeling your throat close up because if he wasn’t taking the time to listen for the second time around, would he ever listen to anything?  

“I didn’t know how to tell you about him––How––How uncomfortable he made me feel––”

The rigidness behind his voice cut you off, “I’m your husband, you can come to me with anything, and if he made you uncomfortable, why didn’t you just change instructors?”

“Why didn’t I––What?” The shakiness of your voice was covered up by the tea kettle that was now whistling out of control, “Change instructors––He––Do you even care what he did?”

“That’s not the––”

You brought your left hand up to cover your mouth, you had cried too many times in front of him and you were tired of him not listening to you, “Leave.”

Shawn shook his head, “Y/n, I’m not leaving––”

You felt your chin wobble as you shook your head, vision starting to cloud from the build up of tears in your eyes, “Go––I––I want you to leave.”

He took a step forward, reaching a hand out to comfort you, but the last thing you wanted was for him to comfort you.  

Noticing you recoiling from his touch, he reached over to turn the stove off and poured the hot water into the mug, “I don’t––I’m not home for much longer,” his voice was desperate as he set the kettle back down on the stove top, “I’m home for three more days––Don’t––Please come home.”

You shook your head, “I don’t––You––Leave.”

He stood firmly in place, “Not without you––”

“Go!” You shouted through your tears as you pointed at the door, “I can’t be around you-–you.”  Shawn continued to shake his head, his eyes filling up with tears as you pleaded with him to leave you alone.  

Your next words were cruel, you were taking advantage of how scared he was to lose you, but that didn’t matter to you.  All you wanted was to be alone.

“If you don’t leave now,” your voice had softened but the edge was still there as tears continued to run down your face, “I don’t know what that’ll mean for our marriage.”

He didn’t move an inch, challenging your words, but you kept eye contact with him.  You wanted him to know that you were serious––serious about how him not leaving would be detrimental to your marriage––But in all honesty, you were bluffing.  You didn’t want your marriage to end as much as he didn’t.  But right now…You couldn’t be in the same room as the man you married.

His eyes were wide, not believing the ultimatum you gave him, but he didn’t want to lose you forever.  He took a step toward you, but when you shut your eyes at his movement, his heart broke and he knew the best thing to do was give you what you wanted.  And that was space.  

Your eyes stayed shut as you heard his footsteps grow further away.  You finally opened your eyes when you heard the door close.  Even with how you continuously cried for days, your eyes were not out of tears.

 You felt a new wave of sobs take over your body as you sat on the kitchen floor crying your eyes out with your tea abandoned on the counter.

///

You didn’t go back home and Shawn left for tour again.  

He would be gone for two months until he got the chance to return home to Canada.  It might’ve been selfish of you to ignore his plea for you to return home to him, it would no doubt cause him more stress than usual on tour, but for your sanity you knew returning home would only cause another argument.

You stayed with Jessie for a week longer before coming to the conclusion that you needed to return home.  While your home wouldn’t be complete until Shawn returned, you needed to be back in that space.

Walking into the home for the first time in a few weeks was strange.  It was eerily quiet, but everything looked in place, if not more clean than what you were used to.  Jessie told you that she had seen dishes stacked up in the sink among other things thrown around, so you were glad Shawn had the decency to clean up before he left.

Standing in the doorway, you looked at the bay window you sat in when Shawn returned home that afternoon.  And like a movie, it was as if you could see the whole fight play out; Shawn throwing the tabloid at your feet and then screaming at one another.  The vile words he said to you still hurt to think about, so you looked away from the window that made you fall in love with the apartment.

You slowly walked further into the apartment and everything you saw held a memory.  In the kitchen you saw Shawn trying to distract you from cooking as he did a terrible dance.  In the living room, you saw the couch and thought about the countless times you’d fallen asleep on each other in the middle of a movie.  And in the corner, where there was a little bookshelf and chairs to relax in, you saw yourself reading a book as Shawn sat in the chair opposite of you, trying to perfect a song’s chorus.

Everything coming back in waves was too much, but only a few tears leaked from your eyes.  Most of the memories that came back to you were happy.  They were full of laughter and smiles––Just like how your marriage had been.  They always say how the first fight is the worst, but you didn’t think it could get any worse than this.

Finding yourself in your bedroom, you flicked the lights on, and immediately changed into sweatpants and one of Shawn's shirts.  Part of you wished you returned home before he left, but you knew you weren’t emotionally ready for that.  So you opted for one of his t-shirts to bring you his comfort as he was halfway across the world from you.

You peeled back the covers on his side of the bed, slowly getting under, and bringing the sheets up to your chin.  You buried your head into his pillow and that’s when you lost it.  What if by being selfish and not coming home you had wrecked your marriage? You were both angry, but Shawn took a lot of things to heart, and there was no doubt you knew he felt absolutely crushed that you didn’t return home.

As if he knew you were thinking of him, your phone rang, and you saw the ridiculous selfie he took on your phone when he was nineteen.  You wanted to swipe and answer the call.  You wanted to hear his voice.  But you were scared that he would actually confirm your worst fears and say that your marriage was over.

You screened the call, and right when you were about to put your phone down and cry into his pillow more, his contact picture lit up your screen again.

With a shaky breath, you tried your best to push all your fears down as you answered the call, “Sh––Shawn?”

“Y/n,” he breathed out your name with a sigh of relief, “I––I’m so glad you picked up.”

You nodded your head against the pillow and whimpered, “I––Yeah––I––Sh––Shawn––I––”

“Please don’t leave me,” he shakily breathed out the sentence in one breath, “I don’t know––I––” You could imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’m such an asshole and this––You––I love you and I can’t––” You heard an ugly sob from the other end of the phone as he whispered out the best he could, “Please––please don’t leave me.”

You felt all of your fears disappear as you let out a little cry of relief, “I love you too.”

“We––We can talk––You can talk,” he corrected himself and it caused you to laugh a little, “When I get home?”

You nodded your head and for the first time, in a long time, you smiled, “I’ll be waiting.”

///

Nearly two months later, you were making yourself a cup of tea as you awaited Shawn’s arrival.  Even though the two of you talked almost every night, conversation was still strained with how you last saw each other; you shouting at him to leave threatening that your marriage could be over if he didn’t.  It was a heavy note to leave off on, but the two of you brushed it under the rug as you would recount what you did during your day and he told you about the show he had performed.

You were nervous––more nervous than you were on your first date with him––but you tried to push those feelings away.  He was your husband.  You both loved each other endlessly.  And it did ease your anxiety a bit knowing that your marriage wasn’t going to end after this conversation.

The sound of a key unlocking your door caused your heart rate to spike as you threw away your tea bag.  He was home and it was time to really talk.

Much like the ill fated day he came home without his ring, he rolled in a small carry-on suitcase and had a black duffle bag slung over his shoulder.  The first thing your eyes went to was his left hand, and even though you had seen it in every picture of him performing on stage, it still brought a smile to your face seeing it on his hand.  While his left sock was raised higher than the right sock, and his t-shirt was still wrinkled, you noticed his hair was a little shorter.

“Did you get a haircut?”

Shawn dropped his duffle bag with a smile as he rolled his eyes and walked into the kitchen, “Do you like it?”  

You nodded your head with a smile as you passed him a freshly made cup of tea as your hands circled your own cup, “Your curls look more tame.”

Shawn laughed into his tea before he took a sip and placed the mug down.  He exhaled a deep breath, tapping his fingers on the sides of the mug like he was playing piano, and gave you a worrisome look, “Can I––Can I hug you?”

Your shoulders dropped at how uncertain he sounded.  But then again, it had been months since you last touched him.  The last time you touched him was before he left for tour the first time; before he took off his ring.

“Yeah,” you croaked out with a nod.

Within a matter of seconds, Shawn’s arms were wrapped tightly around you, hugging you like it was one of his last moments on Earth.  You circled your arms around his waist and your body was immediately flooded with the warmth of his chest.  It had been so long since you had any form of physical contact with him that you almost forgot what a simple hug felt like.

And it was something you never wanted to go months without again.

Shawn pressed a kiss to the top of your head, which made you feel giddy on the inside, before he slightly pulled away, “I––I won’t say a thing,” he whispered as he rubbed his hands up and down your back, “But I think we need to talk.”

The giddiness you felt dissipated and your insides now felt queasy.  You wanted to forget that the past few months had happened.  You tried your best to block it from your memory, but Shawn was right, you needed to talk in order to move forward in your marriage.

So you talked and Shawn didn’t utter a single word.  You explained how Jessie thought cooking lessons would be a good idea to distract you from missing Shawn, how the advances Ethan first made were a joke here and there, but then he started paying more attention to you.  He became hyperfixtated on the way you cut vegetables and how––If you change this and follow me, he would say before lightly touching you and directing your hand movements, you’ll have what you need––trying to add a double meaning to his words.

You could see Shawn’s jaw clench a few times as his knuckles would turn white from how tight he was holding the mug.  While you knew he didn’t like what he was hearing, you were appreciative that he was listening instead of arguing with you like the last time.

“And um––Yeah––So That’s––Yeah.”  You rambled off as you went to touch your wrist that Ethan harshly grabbed a few months ago.  And even though the grease burns on your back were healed, you still felt the itch of them as if they happened yesterday.

After a brief moment of silence, Shawn closed his eyes and let an aggravated breath out through his nostrils, “He…He touched you.”

You nodded your head as you took a sip of your tea, wanting to delay any sort of response for as long as you could, “Yeah,” But with his eyes staring into yours, you knew he wasn’t going to let you skip over any detail, “Those, um––That picture in the magazine…That’s when the grease spilled on my back.”

Shawn rubbed his hands over his eyes, he was no doubt exhausted from traveling, and it probably didn’t do him any good hearing this story, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

What was different than before the times you tried to talk to him about this, his voice wasn’t accusatory;  It was careful.  Careful in the sense that he didn’t want you to think he was upset with you.  Because the situation wasn’t your fault and he knew that.  

“You’re already so stressed with your job,” you looked down into your empty mug, “I didn’t want to add any stress.”

Shawn reached his hand across the counter and unwrapped one of your hands from your mug.  He laced your fingers together and held your hand tightly, “I’m your husband,” he weakly smiled at you, “The music, touring, writing––None of that is a real job––My my job to worry about you.”

While he sounded a bit defeated, you knew that he meant well.  You knew that he was only upset with himself because you were scared to go to him with something that made you uncomfortable.  He always wanted to be your person to go to whenever you felt yourself in a weird situation, and in this instance, he thought that he failed at that part of being your husband.

So you squeezed his hand back in reassurance, “I know you’re not going to forget about this,” he raised an eyebrow at you because you knew he was never going to forget this disastrous fight or forget about what Ethan did to you, “But for now, can we forget about it and take a nap?”

With a shake of his head, he let out a chuckle, “You’re right that I’m not going to forget about this,” he said as he lifted your connected hands over your mug as he pulled you out of the kitchen and down to your bedroom, “But a nap sounds fantastic.”

And for the first time in months, you walked to your bedroom with a lovesick smile on your face, trailing behind the man you fell in love with more every day you shared together.

///

FOUR MONTHS LATER

“You’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?” You laughed as you tightened your hold around Shawn’s arm, “This isn’t fair!”

“It’s a surprise,” he smirked as he continued to lead the way down the streets of Toronto.  

It was a peaceful day in the capital city of Ontario.  The sun was shining, birds chirping, and you were arm-in-arm with your husband.  He had just finished the last leg of his world tour and you couldn’t be more proud of everything he accomplished.  Luckily enough, you were able to join him on tour for the last two months, and spent your first wedding anniversary in Napa, California the day before his show in Sacramento.

It was definitely an ideal way to spend your first year married to Shawn––drinking wine––And everyone congratulated you on getting through what was dubbed to be the “hardest” year of marriage.  That was the understatement of the century. And both you and Shawn would always brush off everyone joking about it because they didn’t know how hard of a year it really was.  

The whole debacle with the tabloid magazine was mostly swept under the rug, and you just told your families and the people on Shawn’s team he was closest to, that it was just a misunderstanding; A tabloid that took things way out of proportion. The only people who really knew how devastating the year had been was you, Shawn, and Jessie.

Sometimes there would be a thought in the back of your head about how detrimental another fight like that could be to your marriage.  But you always tried to shut those thoughts down as soon as possible and just focus on the good things in your life.  And right now, that was Shawn leading you to a surprise location, because he thought the two of you needed another anniversary celebration.  

“I––I’ll…” Your voice trailed off as you walked down the familiar strip of shops, “After you’ve fallen asleep, I’ll take your socks off.”

Shawn threw his head back in laughter at your poor attempt to get him to spill the surprise, “Impossible because you always fall asleep before me.”

“Fair,” you let out a sigh, “I still think it’s weird you sleep with socks on.”

“I thought we agreed to disagree on that.”

“It’s just,” you squeezed his bicep, at a loss of words, “infuriating.”

Shawn smiled brightly down at you before quickly pressing a kiss to your cheek, “But you still married me.”

With a roll of your eyes you softly hit him in the stomach, “Yeah, yeah…” But when you turned a corner, you knew why these shops were so familiar, and you almost stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, “What are we––Shawn?”

He looked back at you with a sheepish smile and a shrug of his shoulders.

“Shawn,” you hesitantly said his name again, “What're you planning?”

Again, he shrugged his shoulders, “You know how terrible I am in the kitchen,” he glanced back at the place where you took your cooking lessons when he was away on tour.  And for a moment, the playfulness dropped from his face as he seriously looked into your eyes, “If you’re not comfortable going back in there, we can always get coffee across the street.”

You mentally made a pros and cons list in your mind.  You hadn’t been in the place you received your cooking lessons since you stormed out of there.  And as far as you knew, Ethan still worked there, which made your skin crawl.  But you were with Shawn.  Shawn would be by your side the whole time.  And you were curious to see what he had up his sleeve.

“I mean…I’m fine with it,” your voice wavered.  He raised his eyebrows, silently asking you if you were actually fine to go back in there, because he didn’t want to push you with something you weren’t 100-percent on.  So you cleared your throat and repeated yourself, “I’m fine going in, but…I think he’s supposed to be teaching today?”

A wicked smile spread across Shawn’s face, “Three o’clock couple’s cooking class with Ethan Anguis.”

Your mouth dropped and you couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh, “You did not.”

Shawn smirked, “I do believe we have to check-in in ten minutes before we lose my deposit.”

You shook your head because you could not believe how ridiculous your husband was, “Lead the way.”

With a gleam of mischief in his eyes, he smiled as he bent over with his arm stretched out as he opened the door for you.  You let out another laugh as he followed you into the familiar classroom.  You were standing behind a few other couple’s but once you heard his voice, your hand instinctively gripped onto Shawn’s tighter.

He looked down at you, again, silently asking you if you were comfortable with this.  You nodded, and before you knew it, you were face-to-face with the man who had caused your marriage to be hell for a few months.  

Ethan was looking down at the check-in book, not realizing you were in front of him, before Shawn cleared his throat, “Mr. and Mrs. Mendes.”

His head shot up as he ignored Shawn’s presence entirely and only had eyes for you.  You shifted closer into Shawn’s side as Ethan sent a smile your way, “Y/n, it’s nice to see you––”

“Do you always refer to your student’s by their first name?” Shawn didn’t hide the malice in his voice, he wanted Ethan to know that you were just a student. 

Ethan’s eyes darted to Shawn for a brief second, before his eyes flickered down to your hands clasped together, and you swore you saw him glaring at your hands before he tried to compose himself before answering Shawn’s question, “She––I’ve had her in class before.”

“Then you should be used to calling her Mrs. Mendes.”

Ethan’s eyes hardened at the protectiveness of Shawn’s words as he nodded his head once, “We’ll be at table six––”

Shawn stepped forward until his lower stomach was basically toppling over the weak wooden podium, “If you do anything to make her feel uncomfortable again,” his low and threatening voice sent a shiver down your spine as he insinuated what he had done in the past, “I swear you’ll never work in a restaurant in Toronto again.”

You noticed how Ethan’s jaw clenched as his face began to turn red.  You didn’t know if it was red out of embarrassment or anger, but you didn’t want to stick around to find out.

“We’ll be at table six,” you said as you dragged Shawn by the hand.

You made it to your table and you couldn’t help but smile up at Shawn who had a proud smirk on his face, “What are you doing?”

The two of you sat down on the barstools as you waited for everyone else to get checked in.  Shawn moved his stool closer to yours so that you could sit side-by-side, thighs touching, as he threw an arm over your shoulder and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your lips, “Just tryna cause a little trouble.”

You rolled your eyes as you rested your head on his shoulder, “I love you.”

Shawn smiled brightly down, “And I love you,” his attention was briefly pulled away when Ethan called out that the lesson would be beginning shortly.  When he returned his gaze back down to you, he smiled softly, noticing that your eyes had never left him, “With all my heart.”

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