I Can Never Write a Love Song (Part 8/8)
Title: I Can Never Write a Love Song
Prompt: 100_situations #018. Numbered
Part: Eight of Eight
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairings: Jack/Liz, Liz/Other, Jack/Other
Word Count (this part): 4,992
Rating (this part): NC-17
Table: Number Two.
Notes: Here we are, finally at the end of this. (It's over twenty thousand words, what.) Thanks to all those who've commented and, as always, feedback would be appreciated.
Summary: Twenty-five things that happen after Jack and Liz's divorce. (Follows ' Almost.')
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Tina/NBC/etc. Title is from 'Love Songs' by Brandi Carlile. Not suing me would be appreciated.
*
19. She spends the night with Jack.
(And she wakes up with him in the morning. Liz wishes she could say that the first thing she notices when she wakes up is Jack's arm around her or his breath gently falling against her ear or his fingers resting on her stomach. But she's cognizant of all that after she realizes he has an erection. A physiological response, an involuntary one, because she knows the difference between Jack when he's asleep and Jack when he's allowing himself to stay in bed a bit longer because he shares it with a woman who likes to sleep late. She rests her hand over his, lets out a breath. All she can think of is how much she wants him. And that's when she lets herself take note of the proximity, of him holding her, of how comfortable it all feels. She only wants him more.
She rocks her hips, rubbing against him. This makes him stir, makes him press back on instinct. She reaches behind her, brushing her hand over the front of his boxers. He groans out her name, voice hoarser than usual, hoarser than she usually hears it because she's spent years not waking up with him.
On the tip of her tongue is a light-hearted question about whether or not he still likes to do it in the morning; an attempt to be flirty and sexy even though she feels anything but. Her mouth is dry, her tongue has not yet caught up her to her thoughts, and then his hand is under her shirt. He cups her breast, her nipple hardening against his palm, and she gives in to the arousal that's burgeoning instead of bothering to talk. He starts to kiss her neck as he caresses her chest and stomach. His fingertips slip underneath the waist of her pajama bottoms but go no further, touch pausing as he sucks on a bit of her skin.
"Unbutton your top," he whispers, and she follows his request.
After she's done, he rolls Liz onto her back. He looks down at her, lightly kissing her mouth with closed lips -- she never liked her morning breath, so she never wanted to try to deal with his and he always complied -- before opening her shirt. He immediately closes his lips over her nipple, tongue swirling around the hardened nub before he sucks on it. His mouth lingers at her chest, going back and forth between both of her breasts. He starts to pull down her pants, and she lifts her hips up to make it easier for him to do so. He seems to be in a hurry all of a sudden, yanking them down the rest of the way and tossing them to the floor. Their eyes meet, stay locked as he settles between her legs. Then his gaze shifts to what's right in front of him, and she's watching as he parts her sex with his fingers. Watching as he starts to explore her folds with those long licks that always made her feel as if he wanted to drink every bit of her arousal. That made her feel, makes her feel, even more aroused. Makes the throbbing in her clit, which his tongue is mostly -- and purposely -- neglecting, more intense. She rests a hand on the back of his head, feeling the short hair rub her skin as she arches toward him. His tongue finally makes full, direct contact with her clit, giving it a lick that's fleeting but succeeds in making her body quiver.
"Jack," she mutters.
He looks up at her, stares into her eyes as he slowly circles her clit with his tongue. He groans, and it feels so good, those vibrations, exhalations, against her flesh. His gaze returns to her sex as he sucks on one of her outer lips; darts between the exposed, slick flesh and her face while he continues to go down on her. And she keeps watching him, keeps feeling the pressure build until her eyes snap shut and the waves of pleasure, of relief, flow over her. She can feel his cheek near her thigh, his fingers on her pelvis, his tongue snaking over her flesh, as she starts to come down. He lifts his head up after she opens her eyes, then rises to his knees. She rubs the outside of his thigh with the inside of hers.
"Do you want me to, you know. Return the favor."
"No," he says. He opens his mouth again, as if to say more, but instead he exhales. Takes another breath. "No."
He takes off his shirt and lies back next to her. She tugs his boxers down his legs before she leans over and kisses his cheek. And, as she does, as she's not too far from feeling him inside her again, she wonders what he's thinking. Why he's doing this. If he's trying to let her know that he realizes this means something to her, that he knows this is a second chance they shouldn't throw away, or if he's saying a final goodbye before he puts an end to what they've started, or if he's too caught up in the physicality of the moment to consider anything besides the sex.
His hand moves to the back of her neck, keeping her face close to his. He kisses her cheek, her throat. "Get on your side."
She does so, feeling his erection press against her as he draws her closer. He lifts her leg up, placing it over his. His cock is now between her legs, sliding over the slick folds of her sex while he shifts slightly, moving farther down on the bed and closer to her. She moans, then gasps as he poises the tip at her entrance. He's inside her, gets deeper in with each gentle thrust of his hips.
She reaches back to touch him, rests her hand on his thigh.
His hand goes for her pelvis, palm pressing against it while his fingers go for her swollen clit. He starts to move faster while he touches her, burying his cock entirely inside each time he brushes his finger over her clit. When she comes, she says his name. He comes soon after, grunting into her neck. Then, he says her name, kisses right underneath her ear.
She turns her head toward the pillow. Lets out the ragged breaths that keep falling from her lips, groans when she feels him slip out of her. He kisses her shoulder.
"I didn't realize guys your age got erections in the morning."
"I wasn't that young when we were married, Lemon."
"Yeah."
"It's a sign of sexual health. And I'm still sexually healthy. Very much so."
"I am not surprised."
He laughs. Not one of his boisterous, over-the-top laughs that she can tell is coming from Jack even if she's turned away and across the room from him, but something shorter, softer. Something that's nevertheless recognizably him. Something that's more intimate.
*
They conduct much of the morning as if there's nothing to discuss. She takes a shower. Then he does. She gets dressed while he puts back on the t-shirt and boxers, and soon they're having breakfast in her kitchen with her daughter sitting in a highchair and pressing her fingers into a bowl of Cheerios. She eats a couple, and Liz claps. Amy laughs, and Liz catches Jack smiling at her. He almost immediately looks down at his cereal.
It's later, but not much later, that Jack finally says, "We have to talk."
"Yeah. Yeah, we do."
"I don't think we should see each other anymore."
"We shouldn't see each other anymore?" she says, not because she doesn't understand but because she doesn't know what to say. She doesn't know how to refute what he feels, even though the arguments have been rattling through her brain since last night.
But she does know he was saying goodbye earlier.
"You've moved on with your life. I haven't, and I can't be around you anymore. I've already wasted too much of my life hung up on a failed relationship."
She hesitates for a moment. "I haven't moved on, Jack."
"You moved on when you left me."
"I didn't really leave. You told me to leave."
"I told you to leave because you didn't want to stay. I wasn't going to wait for you to admit it was over."
She exhales softly. "Okay. I left. I left you. And I've had one actual relationship that barely lasted longer than six months. You're the one who almost got married."
"I didn't get married. I didn't get married because I still loved you. I was still in love with you. And if I married her, if I married Laura, I would have done to her what you did to me. I would have married someone I cared for but didn't need. I loved her. I loved her kids. I loved having a life with them. But I knew that, if I had my choice, I'd be with you. And she deserved better. She deserved to find someone who loved her the way I love you." Her heart skips a beat. He stops suddenly. "Did you honestly have no clue?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "I never fell out of love with you."
"I still love you."
"It's not the same."
"No, it is. It is the same," she says. "And I didn't think you didn't get married because of me. Why would you be hung up on me? Elisa was the love of your life, right, and you got over her--"
"Don't pretend our marriage failed because I fell in love with other women before I fell in love with you--"
"I'm not talking about our marriage. I'm talking about after that. I thought you'd be fine, that you were fine, Jack, because you've always been fine. You've always gotten over things. You've always moved on."
"You were different. I planned a future with you. I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. You were different, and I can't stay involved in your life. I can't go to bed with you. I can't wait for you to fall in love with someone else. I can't watch you with your daughter and be reminded that you didn't want to have a family with me."
"It wasn't about you--"
"Of course it was about me. You wanted to have children, but you didn't want to have them with me. You'd rather have a child with a stranger. Either you didn't love me--"
"You know that I love you--"
"--Or you didn't trust me."
"It wasn't about that. It wasn't about you. It was me. And I know that sounds like a lie, it's not you, it's me... but it was my problem. It was my problem."
He shakes his head. Draws in a breath. "I can't be your friend. I can't do this anymore. I shouldn't have done this for the past five years."
"I don't want that. I don't want things to go back to how they've been. I don't want to have sex with you a couple of times and move on. You know that's not what I want. You know that's not what this is about." She says the words that have been dancing around in the back of her head since last night. Since months ago, really. On some level, for years. "I don't want to be your friend. I mean I don't want to be just your friend. I think we should try again."
He looks away. "Stop--"
"No, listen to me. I think we should try again. Because I do still love you. I'm still in love with you. I love you, and I don't think I will fall in love with someone else. I think... I think you're it. I think you're the one I'm supposed to be with, because you're the only man I've ever been in love with. What does it say that I walked away from you?"
This time, she doesn't let him form a response.
"I think it means I made a mistake. That I... I have trouble being sure about things. I have trouble *knowing* things that are true. I second-guess myself. I second-guess everything and I wait for things to fail and it made me screw up what we had. It made me hurt you." He meets her eyes. "And I think I've been ignoring that, that I hurt you. Because I wanted us to be okay. I wanted you to stay in my life. I didn't want... I wanted you to be okay. I wanted to believe you were okay. I wanted to believe you were okay because I care about you. I didn't want to hurt someone I love so much that it... that it would... that you wouldn't be okay." Her voice cracks. "But I know I hurt you. I'm sorry I hurt you. I don't want to hurt you anymore. And I'm sorry that I didn't know what I wanted. But I know this now, Jack. I know that I love you, and I've missed you. The entire time we've been apart, I've missed you." She shakes her head. "I didn't want you to get married. I didn't want you to stay with Laura. But I didn't have the right to say that. I didn't have the right to be jealous. I didn't think I had the right, because I still wasn't... I didn't *know* that I wanted you back. I didn't know that. I just knew it hurt, to see you love someone else that way. To think of you being with her, raising her kids, having kids with her. It hurt. Thinking of you with someone else, that hurt. But I didn't have the right to want you back. To want you to love me. And maybe I still don't have the right to want you back, but I know I want you. I've been wasting my time looking for someone else."
He's silent for a moment. "You haven't. You left because you didn't want to have a future with me. Now you think because you're not with someone else yet, because you haven't gotten remarried, that I'm your only chance. But I'm not, and I'm not going to make another attempt to settle for being the best out of the options you have. You should find a way to be happy, and it's never going to be with me."
"You made me happy. You make me happy."
"Not enough. This is never going to be enough for either of us."
"Jack--"
"I should leave."
"Please--"
"It's too late. You know it's too late."
He walks out of the kitchen. She wants to follow him, but doesn't. Later, she hears him close the front door too forcefully, signaling that he's gone.
When she goes back into the bedroom, his t-shirt, which is now her t-shirt, which has been her t-shirt for years even if she only kept it because of him, is at the foot of her bed, folded neatly. She hesitates before throwing it into the hamper.)
20. Jack becomes CEO.
(Geiss finally retires. Finally passes the reins. She calls Jack to congratulate him. Well, she's been calling him all the time anyway. He never answers, never returns her phone calls.
"I know you've been wanting this forever. I'm happy for you. We should go out and celebrate. Call me back this time, okay?" She ends the message with, "I love you."
That doesn't result in him responding to her, either, and she wonders if he doesn't believe her, if she's lost the chance of him ever believing her, if she could tell him she loves him a million times and never convince him she loves him as much as she should, or if he deletes every message as soon as he hears her voice.
The important part is, he's not calling her. He's not talking to her.)
21. The movie version of her book is a success.
("Variety said the box office was boffo," Liz says. "Can you believe that's still a thing? Boffo b.o.!" She waits, as if the voicemail box will answer. "I mean, boffo. That's a silly word. They want me to write a sequel. To the book. Then I guess I'd sell the movie rights to that. I don't know if I can. Write the sequel. I don't know if I can do that. I mean, she's a version of me. Younger me. Should I keep giving her a version of my life or do something different? This isn't something you can answer. This isn't why I'm calling you. This isn't what I want to talk about. Well, I want to talk to you about this. I want to talk about this. But what I really want is to talk to you about everything. I want you in my life. I miss you. I love you. I don't think I told you that enough when we were together. You always said it first. No, not always. But most of the time, you did. I never doubted that you loved me. You doubted... you doubt that I love you. That I love you enough. I let you doubt that. I *made* you doubt that. I doubted it... No, I didn't doubt that I love you. I loved you before I fell in love with you. I doubted that we'd last. I doubted our future. I doubted what I wanted. I never should have doubted us.
"I love you. Okay. Bye.")
22. She tries writing about Jack.
(Not for the sequel to Love and Laughter. Not for anything, honestly. She doesn't think anything will come of it, still doesn't believe she has the ability to fictionalize their relationship. She doesn't mention this in her messages to Jack, but if she did, she'd tell him he'd make a great character. Because she thinks he would.
She might not say that, but she does tell him about how her agent is on her case to sign a deal for the sequel to her book. How the paperback is selling very well. How Amy is getting so awesome at walking he wouldn't believe it. How much she loves him. How much she wants to talk to him again.)
23. Her daughter says Mommy.
("And I started crying," she says, still to Jack's voicemail box. "I just... I started crying." She takes a couple of breaths; lets her tone turn lighter. "And I know what you're wondering: did I let her listen to the Jack Welch audiobook? I did. I don't know about her, but I'm learning a lot about how to build a business. She can't say 'Welch,' though. She can say Jack. She can say your name.
"So... how are you doing? How is it, being the CEO of a major company? Do you feel more powerful? Or more... something? I don't know what I'm saying. I'm saying that's got to be amazing, to be the head of everything. To have no one to answer to. You should come over, tell me about it. And Amy could listen in. She could learn about business firsthand from you... I mean, I know she's not going to *learn* anything. She wouldn't understand this stuff. But you said she should learn these things before she understands them. Honestly, I don't understand a lot of this stuff. But, you know. There's no harm in it. I've been reading to her from Rosemary Howard's book. Laying some groundwork of my own. I know Rosemary turned crazy, but that doesn't mean she didn't have talent. So I've been reading to Amy from her book, though not everything from that book. Some of it is pretty... not something to read to a baby. But, anyway, maybe she'll grow up to be a businesswoman who dabbles in comedy. I'm babbling now. And I do read her stuff that isn't written for adults. You should read to kids early..."
She remembers Jack reading that to her from one of the baby books he purchased when they first got married. She doesn't tell him this.
She's sure he remembers, too.
"I love you. Okay... Goodbye.")
24. She tells herself she's going to give it one last shot.
(She's been calling him for two months. A little more than two months. Almost three months. She doesn't know how many times she's called him, but she's sure the number is at the level of 'too many.' What she doesn't know -- still doesn't know -- is if he's considering what she's saying, even listening to any of them.
"Listen to this one," she says quickly. "I don't know if you're listening to these messages. But, listen to this one, okay? Well, I guess if you're not going to listen to it, you've already deleted it... Anyway, if you haven't deleted it... here's what I want to say. I still love you. I know I've said this a lot, but I have to keep saying it, right? I love you. I don't think I do love you more than I did five years ago, but how much I love you should have been enough then. Because I love you more than I've ever loved anyone. I love you so much, Jack. I was scared, I think. You're the first man I ever loved, and you were so sure about me, about our future, about everything... I'm not faulting you for being sure. But I got scared. I was scared. I was scared about moving forward, about... being with you. I mean, I never lived with a guy before you. I never had anyone love me the way you did. But now I'm scared of not being with you. I'm scared that I took my second chance too late.
"I love you, and I'm sorry I was looking for something else. I'm sorry I wasn't sure. I'm sorry I doubted us, doubted you. I'm sorry I thought there was something better than what we had... Well, not better. More right. Which I guess is better. But I shouldn't have been looking for anything else, because you were... you were a great husband. You would've been a great dad... You could be a great dad. You could be a dad to Amy. We could have kids. Somebody would have to help, obviously, because I still have the same problems. I still can't... although I guess I wouldn't have a lot of time if I were able... I mean, I'm not that far away from fifty. I mean, I'm almost forty-seven. Menopause is not that far away. Okay, this is not the point. The point is that I love you."
She lets out a shaky breath; her voice starts to crack.
"And I miss you, and I don't want to live the rest of my life without you. I'm not saying this because I think you're my last chance, at least not in a way that 'oh, I'm never going to find anything better because I haven't yet.' I think I could find someone else, I think I could be fine on my own, but I don't want that. And I'm not going to find anyone *better* for me because there is no one better for me. I want you. I don't want to find anyone else. I don't want to love anyone else. You're not my second choice; you're not someone I'm settling for. Anyone else would be my second choice. Not having you would be my second choice. And a crappy second choice. It would be like... I was going to come up with a really great choice and then a terrible one, but that would be silly. I'm not trying to be silly. I'm just saying everything that's popping into my head. Which is probably not a great idea. Though if I just said everything I was thinking right off the bat, maybe you wouldn't have left. Or maybe you would have. I mean, we still have this history. This past. I wish things had been different. I wish I'd done things differently."
But she can't go back in time. She can just hope he hasn't really given up on them.
"I want to wake up with you. I want to share my bed with you. I want to eat ice cream with you... that sounded dumb. But remember when we'd stay up late stress eating together? And in the morning, you'd suggest we 'burn off the calories'? From anyone else, that would've sounded so lame. But from you, it wasn't. And that's part of the reason why I love you. Part of the reason why I should have stayed with you. Because everything's better with you. Being with you that night, the night of the premiere, I was so happy. I was happy to be there with you, I was happy to go home with you. I was happy, and I know you were happy, too."
She wipes her eyes. Exhales.
"This still hasn't cut off... how long are voicemail messages allowed to be now? That's not... I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You said you're still in love with me. That morning, the last time I saw you, you said you're still in love with me. If you still love me, Jack, and I still love you, we should be together. We shouldn't keep looking for other people. I don't think it *is* too late for us. I thought it was too late, because too much time passed. Because we were both supposed to move on, because we acted like we moved on. Because I thought we weren't supposed to be together, that the chance passed us by. All that time, I thought it was too late. But if we still love each other, if we're still in love, it can't be too late, right? If we love each other, we're just going to waste more time by trying to be happy without each other. But I understand if you don't want to try again. If you don't trust me... please trust me, okay? I love you.
"I love you and I want you, and I want to have the life we should've had... the life you wanted with me. I don't even know if you're listening to this... could you do me a favor and, even if you don't want to talk to me, call me? I won't answer the phone. You won't have to talk to me. I'll just let everything go to voicemail. And, if I see your name on my Caller ID, I'll know you heard this. And I won't call you again."
She might be lying.
"You can move on with your life and I won't bother you. But, then if you're not listening to this, how will I ever know when to stop calling you? Okay, whatever happens, I'll stop calling--"
She's probably lying.
"--because if you haven't listened to this, then you haven't listened to any of them and you already knew there was nothing I could say that would make you change your mind."
No, she'll take a break, at least. She'll let him think. She hopes she's been thinking about it already.
"And I understand, I do. I understand if you're not listening to this, but if you are. Call me. And if you do want to talk to me, leave a voicemail. Wait, you'd know to do that anyway. I don't need to... You know what to do. I hope you call. I hope you call because you want to talk to me. And, if you don't... I don't know. I hope you'll want to talk to me at some point. I don't want to never see you again, Jack. You've been my best friend for the past ten years. You... I love you. I love you.
"Okay. Bye.")
25. Jack shows up, unannounced, at her door.
(A couple of days after her last phone call. And she stares at him. Stares at him, until she manages, "Hi." She begins to ask a question. "Do you--" As in 'Do you want to come in?' But he starts talking, and for once she doesn't mind being interrupted.
"I trust you," he says.
She reaches out to him; puts her hand on his arm.
He leans closer; continues. "I'm always going to love you. You're always going to be the woman I want to share my life with. I don't want to live without you anymore if I don't have to. If you know you want this, if you want to spend your life with me... I can't say no to that anymore. I don't want to say no to that anymore."
She wraps her arms around him, and he follows suit. Her cheek rests against his chest.
"I love you," she says. "I love you. You know that, right?"
"I do."
"Good."
He kisses the top of her head, and she starts to cry; for the time she's wasted, for how she hurt him, for the fact that he's here now and how happy his presence makes her.
"You should know that I listened to all of your voicemails," he says. "I'm glad, by the way, that you have made use of my gift."
She laughs softly in response. "You're right. Jack Welch is quite the storyteller and maker of greatness."
They stay like this for a while, stay like this until her breath is even. She lifts her head up and he brings his thumbs to her cheeks, wiping away the lingering wetness before he kisses her. She returns the kiss, letting herself smile against his mouth.
"How's Amy?" he asks.
"She's doing awesome. And I think she's going to be really happy to see you."
She kisses him. Then she takes a step back and lets him come inside.)
END
Prompt: 100_situations #018. Numbered
Part: Eight of Eight
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairings: Jack/Liz, Liz/Other, Jack/Other
Word Count (this part): 4,992
Rating (this part): NC-17
Table: Number Two.
Notes: Here we are, finally at the end of this. (It's over twenty thousand words, what.) Thanks to all those who've commented and, as always, feedback would be appreciated.
Summary: Twenty-five things that happen after Jack and Liz's divorce. (Follows ' Almost.')
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Tina/NBC/etc. Title is from 'Love Songs' by Brandi Carlile. Not suing me would be appreciated.
*
19. She spends the night with Jack.
(And she wakes up with him in the morning. Liz wishes she could say that the first thing she notices when she wakes up is Jack's arm around her or his breath gently falling against her ear or his fingers resting on her stomach. But she's cognizant of all that after she realizes he has an erection. A physiological response, an involuntary one, because she knows the difference between Jack when he's asleep and Jack when he's allowing himself to stay in bed a bit longer because he shares it with a woman who likes to sleep late. She rests her hand over his, lets out a breath. All she can think of is how much she wants him. And that's when she lets herself take note of the proximity, of him holding her, of how comfortable it all feels. She only wants him more.
She rocks her hips, rubbing against him. This makes him stir, makes him press back on instinct. She reaches behind her, brushing her hand over the front of his boxers. He groans out her name, voice hoarser than usual, hoarser than she usually hears it because she's spent years not waking up with him.
On the tip of her tongue is a light-hearted question about whether or not he still likes to do it in the morning; an attempt to be flirty and sexy even though she feels anything but. Her mouth is dry, her tongue has not yet caught up her to her thoughts, and then his hand is under her shirt. He cups her breast, her nipple hardening against his palm, and she gives in to the arousal that's burgeoning instead of bothering to talk. He starts to kiss her neck as he caresses her chest and stomach. His fingertips slip underneath the waist of her pajama bottoms but go no further, touch pausing as he sucks on a bit of her skin.
"Unbutton your top," he whispers, and she follows his request.
After she's done, he rolls Liz onto her back. He looks down at her, lightly kissing her mouth with closed lips -- she never liked her morning breath, so she never wanted to try to deal with his and he always complied -- before opening her shirt. He immediately closes his lips over her nipple, tongue swirling around the hardened nub before he sucks on it. His mouth lingers at her chest, going back and forth between both of her breasts. He starts to pull down her pants, and she lifts her hips up to make it easier for him to do so. He seems to be in a hurry all of a sudden, yanking them down the rest of the way and tossing them to the floor. Their eyes meet, stay locked as he settles between her legs. Then his gaze shifts to what's right in front of him, and she's watching as he parts her sex with his fingers. Watching as he starts to explore her folds with those long licks that always made her feel as if he wanted to drink every bit of her arousal. That made her feel, makes her feel, even more aroused. Makes the throbbing in her clit, which his tongue is mostly -- and purposely -- neglecting, more intense. She rests a hand on the back of his head, feeling the short hair rub her skin as she arches toward him. His tongue finally makes full, direct contact with her clit, giving it a lick that's fleeting but succeeds in making her body quiver.
"Jack," she mutters.
He looks up at her, stares into her eyes as he slowly circles her clit with his tongue. He groans, and it feels so good, those vibrations, exhalations, against her flesh. His gaze returns to her sex as he sucks on one of her outer lips; darts between the exposed, slick flesh and her face while he continues to go down on her. And she keeps watching him, keeps feeling the pressure build until her eyes snap shut and the waves of pleasure, of relief, flow over her. She can feel his cheek near her thigh, his fingers on her pelvis, his tongue snaking over her flesh, as she starts to come down. He lifts his head up after she opens her eyes, then rises to his knees. She rubs the outside of his thigh with the inside of hers.
"Do you want me to, you know. Return the favor."
"No," he says. He opens his mouth again, as if to say more, but instead he exhales. Takes another breath. "No."
He takes off his shirt and lies back next to her. She tugs his boxers down his legs before she leans over and kisses his cheek. And, as she does, as she's not too far from feeling him inside her again, she wonders what he's thinking. Why he's doing this. If he's trying to let her know that he realizes this means something to her, that he knows this is a second chance they shouldn't throw away, or if he's saying a final goodbye before he puts an end to what they've started, or if he's too caught up in the physicality of the moment to consider anything besides the sex.
His hand moves to the back of her neck, keeping her face close to his. He kisses her cheek, her throat. "Get on your side."
She does so, feeling his erection press against her as he draws her closer. He lifts her leg up, placing it over his. His cock is now between her legs, sliding over the slick folds of her sex while he shifts slightly, moving farther down on the bed and closer to her. She moans, then gasps as he poises the tip at her entrance. He's inside her, gets deeper in with each gentle thrust of his hips.
She reaches back to touch him, rests her hand on his thigh.
His hand goes for her pelvis, palm pressing against it while his fingers go for her swollen clit. He starts to move faster while he touches her, burying his cock entirely inside each time he brushes his finger over her clit. When she comes, she says his name. He comes soon after, grunting into her neck. Then, he says her name, kisses right underneath her ear.
She turns her head toward the pillow. Lets out the ragged breaths that keep falling from her lips, groans when she feels him slip out of her. He kisses her shoulder.
"I didn't realize guys your age got erections in the morning."
"I wasn't that young when we were married, Lemon."
"Yeah."
"It's a sign of sexual health. And I'm still sexually healthy. Very much so."
"I am not surprised."
He laughs. Not one of his boisterous, over-the-top laughs that she can tell is coming from Jack even if she's turned away and across the room from him, but something shorter, softer. Something that's nevertheless recognizably him. Something that's more intimate.
*
They conduct much of the morning as if there's nothing to discuss. She takes a shower. Then he does. She gets dressed while he puts back on the t-shirt and boxers, and soon they're having breakfast in her kitchen with her daughter sitting in a highchair and pressing her fingers into a bowl of Cheerios. She eats a couple, and Liz claps. Amy laughs, and Liz catches Jack smiling at her. He almost immediately looks down at his cereal.
It's later, but not much later, that Jack finally says, "We have to talk."
"Yeah. Yeah, we do."
"I don't think we should see each other anymore."
"We shouldn't see each other anymore?" she says, not because she doesn't understand but because she doesn't know what to say. She doesn't know how to refute what he feels, even though the arguments have been rattling through her brain since last night.
But she does know he was saying goodbye earlier.
"You've moved on with your life. I haven't, and I can't be around you anymore. I've already wasted too much of my life hung up on a failed relationship."
She hesitates for a moment. "I haven't moved on, Jack."
"You moved on when you left me."
"I didn't really leave. You told me to leave."
"I told you to leave because you didn't want to stay. I wasn't going to wait for you to admit it was over."
She exhales softly. "Okay. I left. I left you. And I've had one actual relationship that barely lasted longer than six months. You're the one who almost got married."
"I didn't get married. I didn't get married because I still loved you. I was still in love with you. And if I married her, if I married Laura, I would have done to her what you did to me. I would have married someone I cared for but didn't need. I loved her. I loved her kids. I loved having a life with them. But I knew that, if I had my choice, I'd be with you. And she deserved better. She deserved to find someone who loved her the way I love you." Her heart skips a beat. He stops suddenly. "Did you honestly have no clue?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "I never fell out of love with you."
"I still love you."
"It's not the same."
"No, it is. It is the same," she says. "And I didn't think you didn't get married because of me. Why would you be hung up on me? Elisa was the love of your life, right, and you got over her--"
"Don't pretend our marriage failed because I fell in love with other women before I fell in love with you--"
"I'm not talking about our marriage. I'm talking about after that. I thought you'd be fine, that you were fine, Jack, because you've always been fine. You've always gotten over things. You've always moved on."
"You were different. I planned a future with you. I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. You were different, and I can't stay involved in your life. I can't go to bed with you. I can't wait for you to fall in love with someone else. I can't watch you with your daughter and be reminded that you didn't want to have a family with me."
"It wasn't about you--"
"Of course it was about me. You wanted to have children, but you didn't want to have them with me. You'd rather have a child with a stranger. Either you didn't love me--"
"You know that I love you--"
"--Or you didn't trust me."
"It wasn't about that. It wasn't about you. It was me. And I know that sounds like a lie, it's not you, it's me... but it was my problem. It was my problem."
He shakes his head. Draws in a breath. "I can't be your friend. I can't do this anymore. I shouldn't have done this for the past five years."
"I don't want that. I don't want things to go back to how they've been. I don't want to have sex with you a couple of times and move on. You know that's not what I want. You know that's not what this is about." She says the words that have been dancing around in the back of her head since last night. Since months ago, really. On some level, for years. "I don't want to be your friend. I mean I don't want to be just your friend. I think we should try again."
He looks away. "Stop--"
"No, listen to me. I think we should try again. Because I do still love you. I'm still in love with you. I love you, and I don't think I will fall in love with someone else. I think... I think you're it. I think you're the one I'm supposed to be with, because you're the only man I've ever been in love with. What does it say that I walked away from you?"
This time, she doesn't let him form a response.
"I think it means I made a mistake. That I... I have trouble being sure about things. I have trouble *knowing* things that are true. I second-guess myself. I second-guess everything and I wait for things to fail and it made me screw up what we had. It made me hurt you." He meets her eyes. "And I think I've been ignoring that, that I hurt you. Because I wanted us to be okay. I wanted you to stay in my life. I didn't want... I wanted you to be okay. I wanted to believe you were okay. I wanted to believe you were okay because I care about you. I didn't want to hurt someone I love so much that it... that it would... that you wouldn't be okay." Her voice cracks. "But I know I hurt you. I'm sorry I hurt you. I don't want to hurt you anymore. And I'm sorry that I didn't know what I wanted. But I know this now, Jack. I know that I love you, and I've missed you. The entire time we've been apart, I've missed you." She shakes her head. "I didn't want you to get married. I didn't want you to stay with Laura. But I didn't have the right to say that. I didn't have the right to be jealous. I didn't think I had the right, because I still wasn't... I didn't *know* that I wanted you back. I didn't know that. I just knew it hurt, to see you love someone else that way. To think of you being with her, raising her kids, having kids with her. It hurt. Thinking of you with someone else, that hurt. But I didn't have the right to want you back. To want you to love me. And maybe I still don't have the right to want you back, but I know I want you. I've been wasting my time looking for someone else."
He's silent for a moment. "You haven't. You left because you didn't want to have a future with me. Now you think because you're not with someone else yet, because you haven't gotten remarried, that I'm your only chance. But I'm not, and I'm not going to make another attempt to settle for being the best out of the options you have. You should find a way to be happy, and it's never going to be with me."
"You made me happy. You make me happy."
"Not enough. This is never going to be enough for either of us."
"Jack--"
"I should leave."
"Please--"
"It's too late. You know it's too late."
He walks out of the kitchen. She wants to follow him, but doesn't. Later, she hears him close the front door too forcefully, signaling that he's gone.
When she goes back into the bedroom, his t-shirt, which is now her t-shirt, which has been her t-shirt for years even if she only kept it because of him, is at the foot of her bed, folded neatly. She hesitates before throwing it into the hamper.)
20. Jack becomes CEO.
(Geiss finally retires. Finally passes the reins. She calls Jack to congratulate him. Well, she's been calling him all the time anyway. He never answers, never returns her phone calls.
"I know you've been wanting this forever. I'm happy for you. We should go out and celebrate. Call me back this time, okay?" She ends the message with, "I love you."
That doesn't result in him responding to her, either, and she wonders if he doesn't believe her, if she's lost the chance of him ever believing her, if she could tell him she loves him a million times and never convince him she loves him as much as she should, or if he deletes every message as soon as he hears her voice.
The important part is, he's not calling her. He's not talking to her.)
21. The movie version of her book is a success.
("Variety said the box office was boffo," Liz says. "Can you believe that's still a thing? Boffo b.o.!" She waits, as if the voicemail box will answer. "I mean, boffo. That's a silly word. They want me to write a sequel. To the book. Then I guess I'd sell the movie rights to that. I don't know if I can. Write the sequel. I don't know if I can do that. I mean, she's a version of me. Younger me. Should I keep giving her a version of my life or do something different? This isn't something you can answer. This isn't why I'm calling you. This isn't what I want to talk about. Well, I want to talk to you about this. I want to talk about this. But what I really want is to talk to you about everything. I want you in my life. I miss you. I love you. I don't think I told you that enough when we were together. You always said it first. No, not always. But most of the time, you did. I never doubted that you loved me. You doubted... you doubt that I love you. That I love you enough. I let you doubt that. I *made* you doubt that. I doubted it... No, I didn't doubt that I love you. I loved you before I fell in love with you. I doubted that we'd last. I doubted our future. I doubted what I wanted. I never should have doubted us.
"I love you. Okay. Bye.")
22. She tries writing about Jack.
(Not for the sequel to Love and Laughter. Not for anything, honestly. She doesn't think anything will come of it, still doesn't believe she has the ability to fictionalize their relationship. She doesn't mention this in her messages to Jack, but if she did, she'd tell him he'd make a great character. Because she thinks he would.
She might not say that, but she does tell him about how her agent is on her case to sign a deal for the sequel to her book. How the paperback is selling very well. How Amy is getting so awesome at walking he wouldn't believe it. How much she loves him. How much she wants to talk to him again.)
23. Her daughter says Mommy.
("And I started crying," she says, still to Jack's voicemail box. "I just... I started crying." She takes a couple of breaths; lets her tone turn lighter. "And I know what you're wondering: did I let her listen to the Jack Welch audiobook? I did. I don't know about her, but I'm learning a lot about how to build a business. She can't say 'Welch,' though. She can say Jack. She can say your name.
"So... how are you doing? How is it, being the CEO of a major company? Do you feel more powerful? Or more... something? I don't know what I'm saying. I'm saying that's got to be amazing, to be the head of everything. To have no one to answer to. You should come over, tell me about it. And Amy could listen in. She could learn about business firsthand from you... I mean, I know she's not going to *learn* anything. She wouldn't understand this stuff. But you said she should learn these things before she understands them. Honestly, I don't understand a lot of this stuff. But, you know. There's no harm in it. I've been reading to her from Rosemary Howard's book. Laying some groundwork of my own. I know Rosemary turned crazy, but that doesn't mean she didn't have talent. So I've been reading to Amy from her book, though not everything from that book. Some of it is pretty... not something to read to a baby. But, anyway, maybe she'll grow up to be a businesswoman who dabbles in comedy. I'm babbling now. And I do read her stuff that isn't written for adults. You should read to kids early..."
She remembers Jack reading that to her from one of the baby books he purchased when they first got married. She doesn't tell him this.
She's sure he remembers, too.
"I love you. Okay... Goodbye.")
24. She tells herself she's going to give it one last shot.
(She's been calling him for two months. A little more than two months. Almost three months. She doesn't know how many times she's called him, but she's sure the number is at the level of 'too many.' What she doesn't know -- still doesn't know -- is if he's considering what she's saying, even listening to any of them.
"Listen to this one," she says quickly. "I don't know if you're listening to these messages. But, listen to this one, okay? Well, I guess if you're not going to listen to it, you've already deleted it... Anyway, if you haven't deleted it... here's what I want to say. I still love you. I know I've said this a lot, but I have to keep saying it, right? I love you. I don't think I do love you more than I did five years ago, but how much I love you should have been enough then. Because I love you more than I've ever loved anyone. I love you so much, Jack. I was scared, I think. You're the first man I ever loved, and you were so sure about me, about our future, about everything... I'm not faulting you for being sure. But I got scared. I was scared. I was scared about moving forward, about... being with you. I mean, I never lived with a guy before you. I never had anyone love me the way you did. But now I'm scared of not being with you. I'm scared that I took my second chance too late.
"I love you, and I'm sorry I was looking for something else. I'm sorry I wasn't sure. I'm sorry I doubted us, doubted you. I'm sorry I thought there was something better than what we had... Well, not better. More right. Which I guess is better. But I shouldn't have been looking for anything else, because you were... you were a great husband. You would've been a great dad... You could be a great dad. You could be a dad to Amy. We could have kids. Somebody would have to help, obviously, because I still have the same problems. I still can't... although I guess I wouldn't have a lot of time if I were able... I mean, I'm not that far away from fifty. I mean, I'm almost forty-seven. Menopause is not that far away. Okay, this is not the point. The point is that I love you."
She lets out a shaky breath; her voice starts to crack.
"And I miss you, and I don't want to live the rest of my life without you. I'm not saying this because I think you're my last chance, at least not in a way that 'oh, I'm never going to find anything better because I haven't yet.' I think I could find someone else, I think I could be fine on my own, but I don't want that. And I'm not going to find anyone *better* for me because there is no one better for me. I want you. I don't want to find anyone else. I don't want to love anyone else. You're not my second choice; you're not someone I'm settling for. Anyone else would be my second choice. Not having you would be my second choice. And a crappy second choice. It would be like... I was going to come up with a really great choice and then a terrible one, but that would be silly. I'm not trying to be silly. I'm just saying everything that's popping into my head. Which is probably not a great idea. Though if I just said everything I was thinking right off the bat, maybe you wouldn't have left. Or maybe you would have. I mean, we still have this history. This past. I wish things had been different. I wish I'd done things differently."
But she can't go back in time. She can just hope he hasn't really given up on them.
"I want to wake up with you. I want to share my bed with you. I want to eat ice cream with you... that sounded dumb. But remember when we'd stay up late stress eating together? And in the morning, you'd suggest we 'burn off the calories'? From anyone else, that would've sounded so lame. But from you, it wasn't. And that's part of the reason why I love you. Part of the reason why I should have stayed with you. Because everything's better with you. Being with you that night, the night of the premiere, I was so happy. I was happy to be there with you, I was happy to go home with you. I was happy, and I know you were happy, too."
She wipes her eyes. Exhales.
"This still hasn't cut off... how long are voicemail messages allowed to be now? That's not... I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You said you're still in love with me. That morning, the last time I saw you, you said you're still in love with me. If you still love me, Jack, and I still love you, we should be together. We shouldn't keep looking for other people. I don't think it *is* too late for us. I thought it was too late, because too much time passed. Because we were both supposed to move on, because we acted like we moved on. Because I thought we weren't supposed to be together, that the chance passed us by. All that time, I thought it was too late. But if we still love each other, if we're still in love, it can't be too late, right? If we love each other, we're just going to waste more time by trying to be happy without each other. But I understand if you don't want to try again. If you don't trust me... please trust me, okay? I love you.
"I love you and I want you, and I want to have the life we should've had... the life you wanted with me. I don't even know if you're listening to this... could you do me a favor and, even if you don't want to talk to me, call me? I won't answer the phone. You won't have to talk to me. I'll just let everything go to voicemail. And, if I see your name on my Caller ID, I'll know you heard this. And I won't call you again."
She might be lying.
"You can move on with your life and I won't bother you. But, then if you're not listening to this, how will I ever know when to stop calling you? Okay, whatever happens, I'll stop calling--"
She's probably lying.
"--because if you haven't listened to this, then you haven't listened to any of them and you already knew there was nothing I could say that would make you change your mind."
No, she'll take a break, at least. She'll let him think. She hopes she's been thinking about it already.
"And I understand, I do. I understand if you're not listening to this, but if you are. Call me. And if you do want to talk to me, leave a voicemail. Wait, you'd know to do that anyway. I don't need to... You know what to do. I hope you call. I hope you call because you want to talk to me. And, if you don't... I don't know. I hope you'll want to talk to me at some point. I don't want to never see you again, Jack. You've been my best friend for the past ten years. You... I love you. I love you.
"Okay. Bye.")
25. Jack shows up, unannounced, at her door.
(A couple of days after her last phone call. And she stares at him. Stares at him, until she manages, "Hi." She begins to ask a question. "Do you--" As in 'Do you want to come in?' But he starts talking, and for once she doesn't mind being interrupted.
"I trust you," he says.
She reaches out to him; puts her hand on his arm.
He leans closer; continues. "I'm always going to love you. You're always going to be the woman I want to share my life with. I don't want to live without you anymore if I don't have to. If you know you want this, if you want to spend your life with me... I can't say no to that anymore. I don't want to say no to that anymore."
She wraps her arms around him, and he follows suit. Her cheek rests against his chest.
"I love you," she says. "I love you. You know that, right?"
"I do."
"Good."
He kisses the top of her head, and she starts to cry; for the time she's wasted, for how she hurt him, for the fact that he's here now and how happy his presence makes her.
"You should know that I listened to all of your voicemails," he says. "I'm glad, by the way, that you have made use of my gift."
She laughs softly in response. "You're right. Jack Welch is quite the storyteller and maker of greatness."
They stay like this for a while, stay like this until her breath is even. She lifts her head up and he brings his thumbs to her cheeks, wiping away the lingering wetness before he kisses her. She returns the kiss, letting herself smile against his mouth.
"How's Amy?" he asks.
"She's doing awesome. And I think she's going to be really happy to see you."
She kisses him. Then she takes a step back and lets him come inside.)
END