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Code Omega	By : HobNobsAndTea Category: Individual Celebrities > Tom Hiddleston Views: 1456 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The events in this story are complete fiction. None of these events have taken place.We make no profit from this story other then the enjoyment of writing it and sharing it with others. None of us know Tom personally or have met him.

Chapter List
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Tom stood pacing in his living room waiting for you to come over. He put his actor face on when he called you the next evening, after he'd found out everything and tried to process it all. "I know you have tomorrow night off," he'd pleaded, "why don't you come over and just stay with me?" You'd agreed with little hesitation, you wanted to be there anyway. You'd been working so much, and you'd missed him whenever he called. Tom wanted to tell you what he had found out from Luke, but after he had buzzed you in the gate, he started to lose his nerve. He wasn't sure how you would react, even though your most recent history was positive. He tamped all that down though, at the knock of his door and the turn of the handle. "Honey I'm home," you joked as you sashayed in. Tom looked over at you. You smiled at him, your hair falling around your face and your eyes bright. And while he thought he had a handle on everything, he lost it when he saw you standing there. His eyes started burning and his brow wrinkled with upset. The thought of you being hurt by some monster, especially one that was supposed to honor and love you, stabbed at him in places so deep. You saw his face change and you rushed over to him. "Sweetheart, what's wrong? Why are you upset? You didn't sound upset like this on the phone, what happened?" you pried. Tom wrapped his arms around you and held you tight, refusing to let go. "Tom, talk to me. What happened?"
Tom bent his head and kissed your forehead. He moved to the couch still holding you, and sat you down in his lap. He started to explain everything he could. "I called Luke yesterday. Please don't be mad at me, but Luke and I have connections and I couldn't not help you." You sighed, exasperated.
"Tom, I told you, I don't want you involved, Michael is only going to--"
"Don't ever say his name again, ever! I don't ever want to hear that name fall from your lips again, do you understand?" Tom pleaded.
You were confused. "No. You know the situation between us, I can't get away from him yet, you know that," you repeated yourself. "What is going on? What did you need to find out from Luke that you couldn't just ask me?" Tom paused. He knew what he was about to say would not be good. He just was trying to gauge how bad it was going to be.
He began slowly. "Luke is very good at his job. That's why he's in charge of my PR. He makes sure the people in my life are there for the right reasons. And last year when you came into mine, he did what he was supposed to do, and did some research on you." You tensed. The thought of someone digging in your private life was severely off-putting...but Tom had a point. And it was Luke's job. You had even met Luke several times since you'd been back, and he seemed like a wonderful person. You didn't like where this was going though. Tom continued, "Luke...Luke, in his research, said he found some court documents related to your divorce." His voice shook and his breath came short. You swallowed hard. You prayed he wasn't going to say what you feared most. You begged God, karma, The Muses, anyone you could think of, to keep those words from coming out of his mouth. Your own breath had stopped entirely.
"There was...an investigation. Into some suspicions that you had been...that your fucking asshole of an ex had--" Tom was choking on his words. Saying it out loud to you made it real, and he wanted more than anything for that not to be the case. You felt like you were about to pass out. You couldn't breathe and your heart rate easily doubled. Tom looked up to you and took your face gently in his hands. You couldn't fight the lightheadedness that threatened you. "Please tell me...please," he whispered. "Did he hurt you?"
You felt the air leave your body, and your blood ran cold. You thought you had left all that behind nine years ago. And now it was staring you in the face again. Your lightheadedness persisted and you pushed off Tom's lap. "I think I might be sick," you confessed as you stumbled into the bathroom. Tom followed immediately behind, holding you up as you threatened to fall face-first into the tile. He pulled your hair back as you retched into the toilet. Your eyes burned with every tear you fought to keep from falling. Every memory you had tried so hard to destroy and push out of you came back with a vengeance. Every time your ex had slapped you for "ruining dinner", every time he yelled you into a corner because you didn't dress the way he wanted, and every time he went postal on you because you lost one of "his" babies. Like they weren't yours and you weren't mourning. At first he blamed the job- it wasn't easy being a heart surgeon, lord knew. But soon he turned and it became your fault. Everything did. Especially the fact that you couldn't give him children. And then the night came when you lost the final one. He was railing at you for something, you couldn't even remember anymore, and he pushed you. Halfway down the stairs. And when you came to land, you knew it was gone. That moment started the downward spiral of institutions and psychiatrists. You thought you'd never have to revisit that moment.
But unlike last time, you didn't run from Tom. You willed him to comfort you by not pulling away like last time. He knelt behind you and held your hair and you grasped his hands at the nape of your neck. You didn't want to cry anymore. You'd done enough of it and refused to let one more drop fall. You wiped your eyes dry with the back of your hand. When you finally felt like you could stand again, you pushed yourself off the floor. Tom held tight to your shoulder and under one arm and walked you slowly to the bed. His own tears forgotten, all he wanted to do was comfort you. You let him gently undress you and slip your pajamas on. He tucked you under the covers of the bed and stayed with you until you fell asleep. And when you did, Tom slid out of bed to change himself. His emotions from earlier had turned to anger and determination. He picked up his phone. When Luke answered, Tom said in a very serious tone, "Luke, I need you to call my lawyers. We are going to come at this bastard with everything we have, first thing in the morning."
When you open your eyes, you find Tom sitting next to you on the bed having made some tea setting it on the nightstand. You sigh softly sitting up leaning back against the headboard looking at him in silence for several long moments. This was a nightmare, one that you thought you’d woken from long ago.
“He began prescribing for me. A little while after we got married.” You started slowly. “He was my husband, and he was a brilliant doctor. I thought we were in love. I loved him, I believe he loved me, there was no reason not to trust him. I didn’t know he was dosing me with experimental drugs.”
“Why would he do such a thing?” Tom asked in a low voice.
Your eyes were lowered as you were delving far deeper into these memories then you cared to at this point. “I think he genuinely believed they would help me get pregnant.” You sigh softly, “Or something of that nature I don’t know. He didn’t really give us a chance to have a baby without messing with chemicals and other things.” You shake your head rubbing your face with your hand. “It’s like he changed after we were married. Or maybe he was putting up a good face and I fell for it. If that’s the case he deserves a fucking Oscar.”
Tom reaches out and takes your hand in his holding it tightly wanting you to talk, wanting you to tell him whatever you could. “Was he always . . . so abusive with you?”
“Not at first. Not until every single pregnancy test came up negative. He grew suspicious of me, like . . . I was secretly doing something to keep from getting pregnant. He got more and more paranoid. Then when I finally did get pregnant, things got better for a while. It was like he’d changed back to the way he was before we were married. We were happy, and excited, . . . . but he insisted that I continued to take the medications he gave me. He was adamant about it.” You sigh turning your eyes down again, “After I miscarried, he snapped back again. More paranoid than ever that it was my fault.”
This was unbelievable. Like something out of the movies. A horror movie. “What was he giving you? Do you know?”
You shook your head covering your face with your hands, “No. I trusted him. He was my husband. Aren’t you supposed to trust the one who says he loves you, that you love too?” You took a breath running your fingers back through your hair. “I wondered about it for a while, but then I shook it off. I turned a blind eye to it, I ignored it. I was convinced that deep down, he loved me. Even though we fought, even though we were angry, and disheartened . . . I knew that somewhere in his heart he really cared for me and would never hurt me.” Shaking your head you reach up wiping your tears away, “I’m certain they were just vitamins. Something to help me, something to make me stronger. Make things easier. I’m just being as paranoid as he was. Making something out of nothing.”
Tom felt sick to his stomach, and kissed your hand after a moment. Then he pulled you forward wrapping his arms around you kissing your cheek embracing you tight. You really had been living in a nightmare, telling yourself the entire time it was all just a dream. The debt had nothing to do with a bill you had to pay 50/50. It was Michael’s way of keeping control of you after you’d escaped him. An excuse to keep making you miserable. Sadist was putting it mildly.
The last thing you remembered before you slipped into sleep was Tom gently rocking you, occasionally planting light kisses on your hair. Getting everything out to him was more cathartic than anything you'd ever experienced. And the fact that he didn't run screaming proved just how much you really could trust him. Things were getting better and better between the two of you.
As you slept through the night, Tom was in touch with his lawyers like he said he wanted to do. He was bound and determined to do everything he could to make that bastard pay. "Is there any way you could look at their settlement and some new evidence that's been released? Something has to be done about this, and soon," he said into the phone.
The lawyer on the other end agreed, "Absolutely, Mr. Hiddleston, it shouldn't be a problem. When can you bring the documents by the office?"
"I'll be there first thing in the morning."
~*~
As promised, Tom sat across from his lawyer early the next day. As she looked through the documents he'd brought her, her face scrunched in disbelief. "Do you mean to tell me, she's been paying for debt he racked up on her card while she was forcibly incapacitated?" Tom nodded. Mrs. Rosalie Cooper, a tall, imposing fiercely intelligent woman in her late 50's, was nothing to be trifled with. And that's exactly why she was Tom's lawyer. "Oh, absolutely not, that won't do. Who even presided over this case?" she demanded to know. As she flipped through the file, she stopped on a page. "Oh..well, that explains it. Judge Davies. He's a half-step away from being disbarred, or was almost a year ago. Seems he got a little too chummy with some of the lawyers in his cases. There were accusations of bribery being thrown around," she explained. Tom's eyes widened and brightened a bit.
"That's it then, (y/n) even told me last night, the judge used to play golf with her bastard ex on the weekends! Can't we use that when we go before a new judge?" Mrs Cooper knotted her mouth a bit.
"Well, it isn't as simple as all that just yet. First we have to review all the evidence. And your young woman will have to come in and tell us everything herself. We have to get a deposition from her, and any other evidence she might still have. Do you think she's willing to do that?"
Tom nodded hesitantly. "I believe so. She wants him out of her life as much as I do. We can't begin our own life together until he is all the way out of hers."
~*~
You slept soundly through most of the morning, like you usually did. You didn't want to get too off your sleep pattern. You reached out to see if Tom was still there, but he wasn't. He had left a note though-
"Darling, I had to leave early to make it to the office first thing and then be on set on time. I'm so sorry I had to leave, but I just couldn't wake you up. Call me when you do wake up- I love you."
You didn't get out of bed just yet. Tom's bed really was the most comfortable one you'd ever slept in, and leaving it was always a chore. You thought over everything you had told Tom the night before. All he wanted was what was the best thing for you. And truth be told, that was getting Michael out of your life for good. All the pushback you'd been giving Tom served no purpose. It only delayed what you really wanted- to be a mom. Not just any mom, but mother to his child. Maybe even children. The thought of just one made you smile. You turned onto your back and looked down the length of your body. You imagined your stomach with a swell as you brushed your fingers over it. Suddenly the thought of fighting against something- Tom, your ex, all the walls you'd built to defend yourself- seemed incredibly stupid. And you decided you would rather spend that energy fighting for something- you and Tom, for your future, and everything it could hold.
You quickly turn off the shower, hurrying out and pulling a towel around you hearing the ringtone for work going off. “Yes?” You say wiping the water off your face.
“Hey, you still want to work in the pediatric department on a day schedule?” Your eyes go wide.
“Yes! Yes definitely!” You exclaim quickly.
“Can you be here in 45 minutes?” You look at the time nodding at the phone. You roll your eyes realizing he couldn’t exactly hear your head rattling.
“Yes! With bells on!” You say quickly. “I’ll be right there!” You hang up and quickly grab your clothes pulling them on, running a brush through your hair as you slip your feet into your shoes, grabbing your coat and bag. You’d have to change into your scrubs at the hospital.
Getting in your car you quickly put on your seat belt and drive out of Tom’s gated community realizing that you had forgotten to call Tom when you woke up. You punch in his speed dial and listen for him to answer.
“You haven’t gotten up until now? You must have been sleepy.” He says with a chuckle.
“Actually I’m on the way to the hospital; they want me to come into the pediatric ward today. Isn’t that great? I thought it would be months before I would have a shot to get back to my old job.” You say with a bright and excited smile. There’s a long pause and you don’t hear the excitement you had expected on his end, “Isn’t . . . it great?” You ask.
“Yeah, no. Yes of course it is.” He says with a smile, “It’s just that . . . .well they were hoping you would come in today, to make a statement.”
You frown a little bit, “Statement? Statement for what?” You question.
“To reopen the case, and end this idiots hold on you.” He says bluntly. Your eyes go wide as you pull over hitting the breaks on your car.
“Excuse me!?” You exclaim. Tom stops not having expected you to have such a reaction. “NO!” You shout, “No, no, no, no! I am not going back into court over anything! I was lucky to get the 50/50 deal! God, Tom! Do you have any idea how many weeks, how many days and hours I spent in the damn court room! Forget it!” You shout.
“Darling, Calm down.” He says sternly recognizing when you were starting to get hysterical. “Now I told you this is what I wanted to do.”
“Thomas William Hiddleston, you listen to me right now!” You shout, “All I have to deal with is a monthly bill and occasional annoying phone calls from the prick. Doing this? Opening this door? Means I’ll have to deal with his ass face to face all day every day and I don’t want that! NEVER AGAIN! I’ve spent my last day with him and I am not spending another minute with him then absolutely necessary! Leave it alone Tom!”
“Except allowing him to continue doing even that much is getting in the way of your future! How are we meant to start a family and have children if that part of your life still makes a frequent appearance upsetting you, instead of just staying in your past where it belongs? How are we supposed to have children when your ex continues to harass you and make you live in this nightmare.”
You stare out your windshield a moment shaking your head. How could he not understand this? You already told him way more about that chapter in your life then you wanted to. What was it with your getting so emotional lately? It must have had to do with the hormones and stuff they were treating you with. They hadn’t removed the IUD yet, they wouldn’t until the doctor gave the okay to start trying to get pregnant, so you knew it wasn’t that. “Then I guess we just won’t.” Before he could respond you hang up and throw your phone into the passenger side seat, pulling out into the street angrily, the tires shriek, your foot smashed the pedal to the floor. God Damn him.
Tom stares at his phone once you hang up his jaw decidedly Earth bound. Did you really just say that? After everything you’d put yourself through to get to this point? How could you even think to say that?
As you start your first shift back in Peds, you can feel your heart getting lighter. Your conversation with Tom this morning had put a serious raincloud over your parade. But you did your best to shake it off, and paid close attention to the nurse giving you your crash course reorientation. "So since the entire health record is now kept electronically, there's no need for the record room. So we just keep more supplies in there," the nursing supervisor tells you as she unlocks the door with the keypad. You follow as she leads the way in and show you supplies, and you recognize the spot where you comforted Tom about Jacob. You swallowed hard. The image of him so upset and feeling so helpless suddenly took up all the space in your brain, and you couldn't hear a word the supervisor said about where latex-free gloves were to be found. It was that moment a year ago you when you realized the first thing about Tom, and how seriously he took the role you thought he was so flippant about. You shook your head trying to clear yourself of the picture. "Are you all right?" the other woman said. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Where to next?"
Tom refused to accept your answer. There was no way you intended to actually quit all your efforts to have a child, simply because of this asshole. He could hardly concentrate on set later that day, and begged the director to give him a few minutes in his trailer. "Sure, Tom. We'll shoot some of the other scenes. There's a short one we need to get in the can anyway," he told him.
"Thanks, you have no idea how much I appreciate it." Tom excused himself from the set and pulled his phone from his pocket. Dialing your number, he waited for you to answer. He knew you probably wouldn't- you were at work, and lord knows where your hands actually were. When you didn't answer, he texted you-
*When do you get off tonight? We need to talk. -T*
After a couple minutes, his phone chimed.
*I get off @7, but there's nothing to talk about*
*There's plenty to talk about, don't be ridiculous. -T*
*So now I'm ridiculous? Now I really don't want to talk, thanks*
*I didn't mean it like that, you know that. We really need to talk tonight. Will you please come back tonight? -T*
You looked down at your phone screen. How did he not understand? It was like reopening a scar you did everything to heal. Why did he have to dig at it like this? You had just told yourself to stop fighting everything this morning, but this is not at all what you had in mind when you made that deal with yourself.
*Fine. I'll be there.*
*Thank you. I love you, I'll see you then. -T*
When Tom didn't get a response from his last message, he figured you were still angry. But at least now he figured he could talk some sense into you.
Yup, proof you were back in the pediatric ward. You weren’t clocked out until almost a full two hours after your shift was over, and here you stood in a hot shower washing the puke and jello out of your hair. Strangely . . . it wasn’t annoying but kind of comforting being back where you belong.
The majority of the people you had worked with had either been fired, quit, or moved to different departments. There were only one or two people there you still new, but it seemed the problem cases had moved on and been replaced with people who actually cared about their work and their patients and doing their best. It was so refreshing. Completely washed, rinsed, repeated, conditioned and sparkling clean you come out of the shower with a towel wrapped around you going to your locker as you dry off. You take out your phone and sigh seeing your inbox full of missed calls, voice mails, and texts. Most, if not all, were from Tom. No doubt freaking out of his mind because you hadn’t called him, returned his messages, and you were almost 3 hours off the clock. Good. Make him sweat a little for digging around in matters he shouldn’t be.
You stopped seeing a missed call from Dr. Miles, and punched in the number to place his voice message. “Hello. I just wanted to let you know that your last set of test results came in. Everything looks great. Your hormone balance is back up to normal levels and remaining steady. Seems like you’re about ready to start trying to get pregnant, I see no reason why you can’t. Call the office tomorrow and we’ll set up an appointment to remove your IUD as soon as you’re ready. Have a good night.” Then it ended.
Taking your phone away from your ear you just stare at it. “Fucking seriously? Today of all days? You have to call me with THAT!” You say shouting at the phone, so basically just to yourself. You sigh shaking your head and put your phone down in your locker pulling out your street clothes. You finish drying off and pull them on, before combing your hair out starring in the mirror. Not really seeing yourself but lost in thought.
Really? He said six months to a year, it had only been 4 months since starting your treatment and checkups every two weeks. And here Tom was, ready to bring Michael right back into your life by the nose when you had fought so hard to get away from the bastard. Of all the times . . . . “Fuck.” You say closing your eyes leaning your head against the mirror. This was getting complicated. “Why can’t you just leave sleeping dogs lie?” You whispered against the glass. God, what on earth possessed you to tell him all of that crap that went on with Michael. If you were right, and if there was something dodgy about the meds he was giving you . . . wouldn’t that be more reason to stay away from the bastard? Just pay off the damn debt, listen to him whine on the occasional inconvenient and annoying phone call, and in a couple of years he would be gone forever. No. Big. Deal. You sigh leaning back opening your eyes looking in the mirror. No big deal unless someone decided to make it one.
Shaking your head you go back to your locker taking out your purse and jacket putting your other things away and putting on your socks and shoes. You knew Tom wanted to talk to night. Well, Tom wanted to argue tonight, but now . . . fuck you had to think things out. You were supposed to have more time before this stage of things came about. At least another two months. You sigh starring at your phone. Well. You could still have those two months. You’d been talking to Tom way to much about things you shouldn’t have lately. He didn’t need to know about this, and you didn’t have to have the device removed.
Shaking your head you delete all the calls, messages, and voicemails on your phone completely clearing the card. No, after everything today . . . this one was going to fucking stay with you until this other shit got sorted out. Slamming your locker shut, you put on your jacket putting your bag over your shoulder and head down to your jeep. Getting in, you turn the car and thought for a moment about just going over to Tom’s, but you really did need time to think. Shaking your head you turn off your phone and put it in your pocket, driving home to your apartment.
You changed into your green satin pajamas with the spaghetti strapped top and the short shorts. Sitting on the floor next to your bed in your room, your knees pulled up to your chest, your elbow resting on your knee cradling your head in your hand. You had a mind to lie down and go to sleep, but it wasn’t happening. So you opened a bottle of wine and poured yourself a glass in the hopes a little would help you go to sleep.
Unfortunately, this was your second large glass of wine and it wasn’t doing the trick. Your mind was plunged back into the few years you were married to Michael. You didn’t know what was wrong with you at the time, blaming yourself for everything, letting him blame you for everything. Why couldn’t you just take a good look at him and realize he was a complete asshole and walk away sooner. Instead you were like this groveling, sniveling, doormat, letting yourself be his punching bag. Even when the marriage was over, you actually . . . . you actually hoped . . . . fuck, who knows what you hoped. Your head was completely screwed up. Thank God that chapter of your life was long done. 9 years ago. It was a long time, almost a decade. Why couldn’t you just let it go? Why couldn’t EVERYONE just let it go? Was fucking ridiculous. You drain the rest of the wine from the glass before picking up the bottle filling it again.
“Is there any left for me? Or is that the last of it?” You look up seeing Tom, his hands in his pockets leaning against the door jam looking at you. He still had his key from when he was looking after the place while you were gone. Of course he was going to show up, another fight, that’s just what you needed to end the day.
“Two more bottles in the kitchen. Corkscrew is on the counter. Knock yourself out.” You say taking a drink from your glass. He half smiles before disappearing for a moment then reappearing carrying a wine glass, a bottle, and the corkscrew sitting down on the floor next to the bed with you. Opening it he pours himself a glass putting the bottle aside and taking a sip.
There’s a long silent moment before he speaks, “Is this because of me?” He questions. “Sitting here at 3am in your bedroom drinking wine?” He could see clearly that something was upsetting you and was getting better at reading you sometimes.
You sigh a little looking into your glass a moment, “Little bit.” You confess taking another drink from your glass.
There’s another long drawn out pause before he speaks again, “Darling, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just want to do what’s best for you. Wouldn’t it make your life better if he was out of it? This debt was cleared away and you could be free of him?”
“Would be marvelous. But you don’t understand, you . . . don’t understand the situation because I can’t explain it to you. It doesn’t make sense, it’s stupid, and it’s horrible, and I just want to pretend like it never happened. I fought so hard, so very hard to get what freedom I have. I’ve had to rebuild my credit while paying off a gigantic debt, I had to pick up and leave everything I start my life over on my own in a place where I didn’t know anyone and I was alone, all the while feeling like a complete and utter failure at life because I couldn’t do the one thing that all women are supposed to be able to do. The basic function of a human female, to have a family.” You close your eyes knowing this had all been said before and you wished to God you could be as clear, articulate, and eloquent with your words as Tom was but you simply weren’t. “And I wanted a family of my own more than anything; you don’t even know how much I wanted it.”
“And now you have a chance to have that. To have everything you ever wanted. I have every desire and intention of giving you as many children as you want. As we can manage together. But we can’t do that when this is still hanging over your head. Darling,” He sets his glass down turning towards you taking your hand in his. “don’t you want me to be the one to have a family with? Or did you just feel like you had to settle for me?”
Your brow furrows, “No!” You exclaim. “God, what a thing to say! Of course not, you big dummy! I wanted to be with you before that came up, but I knew you wanted children of your own and I wasn’t going to stop you from finding someone who could give you that.”
“Except I wanted it to be you. Even if we couldn’t have one the conventional way there were plenty of other options we could have tried. We can still try if things don’t work out as promised.” He looks at your left hand he’s holding in his as he stokes your knuckles with his thumb thinking about the times he envisioned placing his ring on it.
“And . . .” You turn your eyes down speaking softly, “I would like you to be the father of my children. Very much so. But Tom, we can’t do this if you keep digging around in things you shouldn’t. There is nothing Michael would love more then to drag you into this with me, and get you into court. Don’t think he hasn’t planned for it, he’s got giant dollar . . .” You pause, “Pound signs in his eyes and he’s desperate to cash in. The greedy bastard.” You scoff still not believing he was jumping the gun thinking he was going to get his claws into Tom’s bank account.
“Except things don’t work like that, love. I can guarantee you my lawyers are better than anything he has up his sleeves. If he’s done dodgey things to your medications in the past, there’s a good chance he’s been rather loose with his prescription pad and the law rather frowns on that nonsense.” He looks at your hand again. “Besides once we’re married and I’m your husband I would think I that I . . . . “
“What?” You say pulling your hand from his starring at him wide eyed. Tom stops realizing he had been thinking out loud. “We are not getting married.” You say in all dead seriousness. “Never.” You say in a stern and very definite tone.
“Darling . . .” He starts to reach for your hand again feeling his heart sink but you push his hand away.
“No. There is no argument here. No discussion. It’s not going to happen.” You say more forcefully then before.
Tom drops his hand to the floor stunned. “Why not?” He asks feeling like he at least needed an explanation. You clinch your jaw starring at him shaking your head. Pushing up from the floor you picked up the wine glasses and the empty bottle.
“You need to leave. Right now.” You say stepping over him and storming into the kitchen.
Like you expected, Tom followed. "I'm not leaving, not until I get an explanation from you." You almost shattered the wine glasses as you put them in the sink.
"The only explanation you need is that it's not going to happen, and that's it," you repeated yourself.
"Don't get snarky with me (y/n), tell me why," Tom demanded. You shot daggers at him from the other side of the bar in your kitchen. How could even think to imagine himself married to you? Why would he pose that to you? He stood staring back at you in absolute disbelief. "Don't look at me like that- you're the one who's brought it up every time I even breathe the word 'children' and how you wouldn't even have them if you weren't married!" He flung his arms up before rubbing his face.
"Oh, so this is now my fault? Okay, it's fine, I'm used to being blamed for most everything, just pile this on top of it then!"
Tom retorted, trying to help you understand, "I am not blaming you for anything! How can you be so contradicting to yourself?! I want to give you all the things you want and deserve in your life, and you're pushing them clear away from you!" His words stung and you could feel something coming from deep inside you, but you didn't know what yet.
"Why do you even want to marry me? I'm a fucking wreck, Tom!" you practically screamed at him.
"Because I love you! Is that so hard to believe?!"
"Yes!" The word flew out of your mouth before you could stop it.
"Why? Why are you so unloveable, and why are you so resistant to the idea of me being with you?!"
"Because you're just going to hit me!!" You gasped as your confession left your mouth. Your eyes widened and your hand flew to your mouth. That was it- that was the thing you felt inside you moments ago and couldn't identify, the thing you were terrified of and the reason you pushed him away like you did. The only memories you had of your marriage were the bad ones near the end. Your eyes focused on Tom as he processed what you just said. His chest felt tight and his breath came shallow. His eyes stung with tears. It was like he had just been slapped. He crossed over to you quickly and you did everything but climb over the bar to escape him. It did no good. Tom took your face in his hands gently, and you darted your eyes everywhere but his. That did you no good either, as he chased your vision down to look at you directly. "Look at me, please," he whispered. You swallowed hard and glanced at him for just a second. "No. Really look at me."
You steeled your nerves and looked at him. The tears threatened to spill and his brow was knitted together tightly. "How...how could you ever think, ever imagine, in your worst nightmare, I would ever, under any circumstance, raise my hand to you? To touch you in any way that didn't come from a safe place?" he begged as he stroked your hair and pushed it out of your face.
You breathed and swallowed again. "Because that's what happens in a marriage when I can't keep my end of the bargain."
Tom shook his head. "Darling, this is not some bargain I want to make with you, where if I don't get what I want, I leave. I'm asking you for so much more than just your body. I want your soul. And I would never, EVER, do a thing to dishonor that gift. How could you mistake that?"
You had no answer. All you knew of marriage was with Michael. And he saw to it that you left him entirely screwed. Tom continued, "Have I ever given you reason to think I would hurt you?" You shook your head. "Have I ever done anything towards you to make you believe I'm even capable of that?" Again, you shook your head. "Then why in God's name would you think I would do such a thing?" Tom whispered.
Even if you had an answer, you wouldn't have been able to give it to him. Tom searched your face for one anyway. He leaned in to kiss you tenderly and you didn't stop him. But you were frozen. After the kiss and realizing the state you were in, Tom wrapped an arm around you, and bent over to pull you up. You clung right to his shirt as he carried you into the bedroom. All you could think about was the realization you had blurted out to him as he placed you under the covers and turned out the light, crawling in behind you to join you.
Your alarm starts going off and you wrinkle your nose slightly stretching your back reaching over and smacking your alarm. You pull a pillow over your head and sigh before realizing you couldn’t just go back to sleep. You were on a day schedule now. With a slight groan you kick off the covers and get up from the bed scratching your head slightly as you sleepily go into the kitchen and flip on the coffee pot. With a yawn you head into the bathroom and start to peel off your clothes turning on the shower.
God, what a morning. Maybe it was all of the excitement of yesterday with getting to your old job again with all of the other emotional garbage that was building up in your life, but man you could just curl up on the floor and go back to sleep right here. Sweeping your hair up into a clip you step into the hot shower under the water and start to wash the sleep off of your body.
Hearing the shower go on, Tom raised his head seeing that you’d gotten up and could smell fresh coffee being brewed. He pulled the covers back and got up heading into the bathroom seeing that you were in the shower. He smiled and leaned on the doorway for a moment just watching you through the foggy glass not being able to help but admire the lovely view.
After you showered, and dressed, you walked out of your bedroom to find Tom in your kitchen. "Good morning, love," he said to you and you smiled. He turned around and pulled a mug down from your cabinet for coffee. You took a seat on the other side of the counter as he doctored it up just the way you like. He slid it across to you, along with a plate with eggs and toast.
He was too good sometimes. "Thank you," you said to him as he started to make his own plate. He placed it down beside yours and joined you on the other side of the bar. Tom tucked a stray hair behind your ear as he kissed you before sitting down.
Tom started eating slowly, watching you. "Darling? I really wish you would reconsider coming in." You paused. You knew he wouldn't drop this issue.
"It's not that simple, Tom. You know that."
"I know. And I don't keep harping on it because I'm trying to prove a point. This...man, if you can call him that, deserves far worse than what he's actually getting. For him to treat you like he does, and he's all but gotten away with it for years...I just want you to come down to my lawyers' office and make a statement, that's all."
"No, it's not. What you're asking me is to reopen the scar I've spent a lot of time trying to heal. Revisit the worst years of my life. I know you're doing what you think is helpful, but what you're really doing is reminding me of how stupid I felt back then, and how much I never want to go back," you shook your head. Tom reached for your hand.
You didn't jerk it back this time. "You can't expect me to go running back into that with open arms."
"You're right. I can't. And I can't erase what he's done to you. But I can change what he does in the future, if you let me. Please, will you at least think about it? That's all I want you to do right now." You didn't quite know what to do. But what you were most afraid of was the bastard coming after Tom. You'd never forgive yourself if Michael hurt him. Tom locked his eyes with you, willing an answer from you.
"I'll think about thinking about it," you answer. He smiled lightly at your smart ass comment. You both finished breakfast quickly and he walked you out to your car. Before you hopped in, he cupped your face and kissed you again.
Tom rested his forehead on yours as you held his forearms and whispered, "You have to go, you don't want to be late."
"For you? I'd be eons late." You rolled your eyes playfully and pushed him back gently.
"Shut up and get to work, Hiddleston." He laughed as you climbed into your seat and buckled up.
"Will you call me when you get off tonight? Really this time?" You nodded. "We still have a lot to talk about, you know," he told you.
"I know." He kissed you one last time before shutting your car door, and you drove out of the lot. You two did have a lot to discuss- not even mentioning the new developments Dr Miles told you about yesterday.
You knew you couldn’t stand him up two nights in a row, so reluctantly you drove to Tom’s house when your shift was over. Parking down the walkway, you pause for a moment taking a deep breath. What had you gotten yourself into?
Zipping up your hoodie, you put your backpack over your shoulder and walk to his door. You knock and he opens it in sweats himself, “I was wondering if you’d changed your mind again.” He says kissing your cheek catching your hand and drawing you inside closing the door. “Have you eaten yet?”
“No. Probably should have grabbed something on the way over.” You admit.
“That’s alright, I was waiting dinner for you anyway.” He says with a smile walking into the kitchen. You take off your backpack setting it on the couch before following after him. “So how goes things at the hospital? Better than before?” He questions taking down two plates and starting to dish them up.
“Yeah. Looks like there really was a shakeup. All the problem cases have been fired or transferred. There are a LOT of new faces fresh out of medical school, but that’s a good thing. They haven’t developed any bad habits of cutting corners yet.” He puts your plate in front of you with a fork and knife, before putting his own plate down. You stare at it a moment.
“Something wrong?” He questioned.
“Where and when did you learn how to cook?” You ask in astonishment.
He chuckled a bit, “Picked up a few things here and there. It’s healthier to eat at home then to eat fast food and take out all the time darling. You’re a nurse you must know this.” He says giving you a napkin taking one himself as he beings to eat.
Picking up your fork you take a bite. It was pure pleasure in a bite of food. “Absolutely unbelievable.” You say shaking your head taking another bite. He just ‘ehehehe’ continuing to eat.
“You have tomorrow off don’t you?” He questions.
“Yup. The next two days off. I tried to switch with someone, but no one would.” You say with a sigh. He just gives you a look not understanding why you were wanting to trade in days off when you had been working almost nonstop the past few months. “I just started back in the pediatric ward and I want to get used to it again.”
“You’ll have plenty of time for that, they aren’t going to fire you and you aren’t going to quit. So take the days off you get cause who knows when they’re going to call you in again.” He says pausing eating and getting down two wine glasses and some wine before filling them. He hands one to you and takes a sip from his own. “Have you thought about things?” He questions cautiously.
You take a breath looking at him. “Yes.” You don’t expand and just continue eating. He waits patiently just looking at you.
“And?” He finally says.
“And I still don’t think it’s a good idea.” You say seriously. Tom sighs and puts down his fork. “You said something that was absolutely right.” You begin, “This is all stuff in MY past. All stuff that happened before, that isn’t happening anymore. In a few more years, my debt will be paid off and Michael will be a distant memory. Can you be patient enough for that?” You ask softly.
“What about children?” He questions sincerely, “Must we wait on them too?”
You shake your head a little, “No. I don’t think so.” You take a breath, “Look at Martin Freeman and his partner Amanda. They’ve been together more than 12 years and have children together. They aren’t married. Ricky Gervais and his girlfriend Jane have been together more than 20 years. They don’t have any children but they are still together. Marriage seems secondary in England these days. The important part of things is that we’d be together. We can have a family and be together without some silly metal rings. Can’t we?”
He sighs looking down a moment. “I suppose we could do that.” He says keeping his eyes turned down. It was apparent that he wanted the whole package. The wedding, the rings, the license, the whole thing. “What name would our children have?”
“Yours. Of course yours. If . . . you wanted to give it to them I mean.” You say looking down a moment. Tom wasn’t an idiot, he knew exactly why you were doing this and putting your foot down on the marriage idea. Because this way everything would remain separate. Property, bills, bank accounts, everything would remain separate. You were attempting to prevent Michael from getting any kind of a foothold. And even though his name and your children’s names would be ‘Hiddleston’ yours wouldn’t be. You’d be a family, but somehow at the same time, you would be an outsider. That bothered him a great deal but he wasn’t going to say it.
He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles going back to eating. Both of you were keeping secrets now. You, that the doctor had given you the green light to start trying, and Tom . . . . the fact that he was going to pursue this anyway. If Michael was gone, he was certain you’d reconsider marriage. You weren’t going to budge an inch until that was done. Even if he had to just straight out pay off the rest of your debt anonymously. Michael needed to go.
Later that week, Tom paid a visit to Luke again. "Tom, don't you think this is a little too much?" Luke confronted him in his office. "I mean, she's just trying to protect you, this guy is pretty much the epitome of vicious."
"Luke, that's exactly why I have to do this, to get her away from him, once and for all. She'll never even consider marriage again if he's still in her life like this," Tom defended. "And when the time comes, and she is able to get pregnant, who's to say the stress from this won't have an affect on the baby? (Y/n) probably hasn't thought about it from that perspective, and I won't take the chance when it comes."
Luke practically glared at Tom. He really was his most trying client, and irritating friend. After a beat and an exasperated sigh, Luke relented. "Fine. Let me see what I can find out. What was it you wanted to know again?" Tom almost jumped out of his seat.
"All I need is the amount of the debt, and who to pay for it." Tom hopped up from his seat and pulled Luke in for a hug. "You have no idea how much I appreciate this," he said. Luke rolled his eyes and hugged him back lightly.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Get back to set before I change my mind." Tom left the office feeling lighter than when he walked in. Luke dropped down in his desk chair, groaning with his hands covering his face. "One of these days, I'm just going to throttle him."
You all but fell into a chair in the break room. Your shift was half over but it felt like ages away. As much as you loved being back on peds, it took it out of you immensely. You only got a moment of peace before the door slung open. It was one of the new nurses, Miranda. "(Y/n), can you please help me with something? The baby in 24 is just getting so fussy and we can't get her to eat. You were so good with her last time, could you help me out?" Being a new grad, Miranda wasn't quite as well-versed as you would have liked, but she was willing to listen and learn everything you'd taught her so far. So obligingly, you stood and followed her out of the lounge to the room.
You heard fussing before you opened the door, and saw the baby's mother, Cindy, in tears. "I don't know what to do, and she won't stop crying!" she bemoaned. You shut the door and Miranda followed behind you like a shadow.
"It's all right, let me take a look," you said comforting the mother. She handed the little bundle over to you, and you placed her in the crib. Right away, you noticed little things. "Well first, let's reswaddle her. That alone can make a world of difference. Then we'll get some formula in her little tummy, okay?" Cindy nodded and watched as you carefully unwrapped and then rewrapped her baby, and tucked her in your arms. You cooed down at her as the baby calmed and made little gurgles. Miranda had gone and gotten a bottle for her, and you showed the both of them how to hold it just so.
Cindy was thrilled. "You must have a few of your own, you're so good at that," she complimented you.
You bit your lip with a smile. "No, none of my own. Not yet anyway."
Your hair tied up in a bandana, you stood vacuuming every inch of your apartment, having already scrubbed and mopped your bathroom and kitchen floors. Maybe it was because you were a nurse that you made sure to clean your apartment thoroughly at least once a month, whenever you had a day off. Regardless of wither or not staying in bed and sleeping all day was more appealing.
You heard a knock on your front door and paused waiting for a second one to make sure you weren’t hearing things. Then you quickly turned off the vacuum. “Hold on! Hold on, one minute!” You call out hurrying over and turning off the radio. You unlocked the front door, “Sorry I didn’t hear you right away and I . . . .” You stopped cold starring wide eyed at your ‘visitor’.
“Hello dear one.” The man said with a smile that sent chills down your spine as he leaned his hand on the doorway.
For a moment you couldn’t form words, then cleared your throat forcing them out. “Michael.” You breathed starring at him feeling a knot in your chest. “What are you doing here?”
“You haven’t been answering or returning my phone calls. I think we need to have a chat.” He says plainly.
“No. We really don’t. I’ve been allowing you to bend the rules of the settlement way to much by answering your phone calls in the first place. Now you’re flat out breaking them? This needs to stop.” You start to close the door but he reaches out stopping it with his hand. Your eyes went wide as you tried to force it closed but he was too strong and easily pushed the door open stepping inside. “Leave. Leave right now Michael or I’m calling the cops. You shouldn’t even have this address, it’s the whole reason I have a P.O. Box.” You couldn’t let him see how nervous you were, but you were becoming rapidly more and more panicky inside.
“Charlotte sends you her love.” He says looking around your apartment as though he had a right too.
“Bullshit. She doesn’t even know you’re here.” You snap. He picks up one of your crystal figurines and you quickly walk over and snatch it from him putting it back in place.
“True enough. It usually is good policy to keep one wife away from another.” He says with a smirk.
“I’m not your wife. I haven’t been for a long time and I think I’ve paid enough for that mistake.” You say your back straight as a board even though you felt like running and hiding. “Why are you here?” You demand.
“I’ve been told that people are poking around our documents and files. Relating to our divorce and . . . the little bit of trouble there was before then.” He says.
“Little bit of trouble? When you put me in the hospital, isn’t that what you mean?” You say narrowing your eyes. He always did try to downplay everything that happened. Like you were making a big deal out of nothing. “I was under the impression those medical files ‘disappeared’ after I was sent home.”
“Everything is digital these days. You can never be sure something is completely erased.” He said stepping closer. You used to back down when he tried to intimidate you like this, but you weren’t going to let him. Not anymore and clinched your jaw standing up straighter holding your ground. “I don’t know what it is you’re up to, but you need to stop it.” He said in a stern and threatening voice.
“I’m not doing anything. I’m paying on our debt, faithfully.” You state.
“Don’t lie to me girl, you were never any good at it.” He said. You stare at him, and even though you were doing your best not to show it he could see in your eyes that you were clearly afraid of him. “If you don’t stop digging up the past, it just might bury you.” He made a move as if to strike you and you stepped closer to him.
“If you hit me you better make damn sure you put me down for good.” You shout, “But if I’m dead the full balance of that debt will be yours and I imagine it’ll be difficult for you to pay it off from prison.”
He just smiles and chuckles, “And what makes you think, anyone would ever even know I was here? I’m a law abiding citizen, they’ll take my word over yours every time. Just like last time. And every other time you stood before a judge pathetically ‘lying’ about the things I ‘supposedly’ did to you.” He said with that superior smile that he always seemed to use when he knew he had you over a barrel.
You swallow the lump in your throat, “Leave.” You demand. “Get out of my home.”
He half smiled and turned as if to leave allowing you to take a breath. However he spun back around grabbing you by the throat and slamming you up against the wall. He stretched you against it so your toes were barely brushing the floor. Your eyes were watering as you clutched to his wrist unable to breathe. “This is your only warning. I won’t tell you again. Leave things in the past were they belong.” He leaned closer, “Otherwise my next visit, truly will be the last.” He squeezed your throat even tighter causing your eyes to roll back. Then he dropped you onto the floor as you gasped for air, your eyes watering as you coughed and choked.
When you looked up again, he was gone, your front door still open. You crawl over and quickly slap it shut, reaching up and turning the lock before pulling yourself up and pulling the bolt tight. Turning around you quickly grab your phone and try dialing, but you were so scared you couldn’t see the numbers. You sat on the floor next to the wall punching the O button to call the operator. It only rang twice before someone picked up, “Hello? Hello please, I need the poli . . . . . .” You stopped cold. Remember everything from before and feeling the way your neck was hurting. He was still so incredibly strong. Closing your eyes, tears streamed down your face as you wrapped your hand around your throat. You take a breath, calming down. “I’m sorry.” You say almost in a whisper, “Wrong number.” With that you turn off your phone, holding it your hands.
Wrapping your arms around yourself you lean over feeling sick, your legs crossed, your head almost on the floor as you close your eyes tight trying to keep it together. You couldn't tell anyone. It never worked when you called for help before. He'd covered his tracks to well. He would have a dozen witnesses saying that he was never here. You'd just look crazy, all over again. It was better just to keep it to yourself. If you had any chance with making a life with Tom in the world, you had to keep your mouth shut. You covered your face in your hands not being able to stop crying, Not having felt so scared and helpless in a long time.
Tom bounded up the steps to your flat, excited to see you. It had been a rough day of shooting and all he wanted was to spend time with you to forget about the day. "Darling, it's me," he called out as he knocked and then opened the door. He glanced around, looking for you for a moment before hearing the shower running. Tom got a naughty idea and decided to act on it. It had been a few days since the two of you had made love, and now seemed like the perfect time. He slowly peeled off his t-shirt and dropped it on the bed as he came into your bedroom. He made a move for the fasteners on his jeans. But stopped as he heard you. You were standing in the shower almost bent over at the waist, struggling for breath still. Michael must have bruised your windpipe, you thought, and you hadn't been able to catch your breath since. The sobbing didn't help matters. When Tom heard you, he pushed the bathroom door open and saw you bent over through the curtain. It made him shiver, and not in a good way. "Darling, what's the matter? Are you all right?" You froze. You had run out of time to get ready, and you had hoped to just hide this whole thing from him. Not anymore. "Sweetheart, talk to me, what's going on? Are you okay?" he asked as he pushed the curtain back a few inches, just to check on you.
You tried to move your hair over your neck so he wouldn't see. Maybe, you thought, if he didn't see my neck, he won't question anything. I'll have time to put some makeup on it and he'll never know, you told yourself. You didn't move fast enough to cover it with your hair. And there was no mistaking he saw it once you looked up at him. Tom's eyes doubled in size and his jaw went slack. He reached in and turned the water off and grabbed your bath towel. "Darling, what the hell is going on, what happened to you?" he asked as he wrapped you up. You were still trying to stop your sobbing, failing miserably, and couldn't really get a breath to explain away why you looked like you did.
You were able to squeak out, "Nothing, I'm fine, I just....fell earlier and...landed funny."
"Look at me," Tom said as he took your chin between his thumb and forefinger. You didn't raise your head, just your eyes, to keep him from seeing, but it was too late. The red, angry welts had reached their peaks and the skin underneath them was already a light shade of purple. You saw the blood drain from his face as he processed it. "Who did this? What happened to you today?" he gently demanded.
"It's nothing, I'm fine." You had lied a million times about where your bruises came from with Michael, and once more wouldn't hurt at this point. You started to step out of the shower to finish getting ready, but Tom wouldn't let you get any closer to the door once you were out of the tub.
"Did he do this to you?" he asked in a voice just above a whisper. He pushed a lock of dripping hair off your face. You couldn't look at him. All you could think about was Michael's warning from before. And if he would come back after you, he would have no problem looking for Tom. But looking at Tom's face, you knew you couldn't lie. He asked again, "Did he come here and do this to you? Please tell me."
It was an eternity for Tom before you answered. Holding you up waiting for, hoping for an honest "no" from you. A "no" he knew he wouldn't get. And when you gave him a barely perceptible nod, he felt his world crash down around his ears. The woman he loved more than anything else had been attacked in her own home. The monster who had taken more than a decade of her life knew where she lived in supposed safety, and that was gone now. He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you tight. After a few minutes he pulled back and bent over a bit to be eye level with you.
"Sweetheart, you have to listen to me, okay? I want you to finish getting ready and take everything with you that you'll need for a little while. You are coming with me, and you are never coming back here again, all right? Not without me and a bodyguard both."
Now wasn't the time to argue. You nodded solemnly as Tom kissed your forehead and left the bathroom to find your biggest travel bag in your closet. You slipped a pair of jeans on and one of his shirts you liked to keep at your place, and grabbed what you knew you would need for the next few days. Your hair still wet, he stayed as close as possible while walking you out to his car. Tom gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles as he drove you both back to his home. This was now the time to seethe. He felt his blood start to simmer as he replayed what had just happened in his mind. Michael would pay dearly for what he had just done to you. Tom would see to it personally, no matter the cost.
You sit cross legged on Tom’s couch in silence scrolling through some things on your phone. Not really seeing anything, just wanting to look busy. Tom comes out of the kitchen with some ice wrapped in a cloth and sits beside you, gently smoothing your hair back from your neck and carefully placing the icepack over the worst of the bruising. You flinch slightly closing your eyes. After a moment it did feel a bit better.
“We’ll ice it for a while until the swelling goes down. Then heat to make the muscles relax.” He says continuing to stroke your hair. He sees your phone in your hands and sighs softly, “You should let them know you aren’t coming in tomorrow. So they can find someone to cover your shift.”
“I can’t just skip work.” You say softly. “I’ll just wear a shirt with a high collar under my scrubs. It’s cold enough now, no one will question it.”
“Darling, you can barely talk. That bastard could have crushed your windpipe grabbing you by the throat like this.” He says his face twisted in anger trying to control it but it was difficult. Your eyes remain downcast and he could see clearly a look of guilt across your face. “Sweetheart?” He says still stroking your hair.
You close your eyes as tears welled within them as you reached up and wiped them away before leaning your head back against the couch starring at the ceiling. “I don’t know what I did wrong.” You whisper.
He furrowed his brow looking at you, “I don’t understand.” You couldn’t possibly think this was your fault, could you?
You breathe slowly your eyes closing again, “He loves her so much. I’ve seen pictures of her, pictures of them together. Smiling, so bright and happy to be together. He calls her his love, his life, speaks of her like she’s a goddess, treats her even more so. All things . . . I can’t remember him ever doing with me.” Tears escaped your eyes and slid down your cheeks before you raised your head looking at him, “What’s wrong with me Tom?” You say in a broken voice, “Why couldn’t I be his princess? Why didn’t he want my heart?”
Tom had tears in his own eyes seeing how deeply hurt you were by this. He put the ice pack down and drew you into his arms. You close your eyes resting your head against his shoulder as he lets you cry even though you tried not to let yourself. After a moment he kisses your head holding you close. “There is nothing wrong with you, my love.” He whispers. “It is not your fault. None of this is your fault. The fool was blind not to see the treasure that he was somehow lucky enough to have. To treat you as you should have been treated, to care for your heart that you entrusted to him.” His eyes closed as a tear escaped his eyes. He kisses your head again holding you tight wanting to erase everything painful and unpleasant in your past.
It was hard sometimes to breathe, laying awake in your bed alone over the years. Sleepless, unable to stop yourself from thinking back, from wondering why you weren’t good enough. You must have been broken somehow, there had to have been something wrong with you. Because you were alone, thrown away like yesterdays garbage, and he had moved on to someone new. Someone he loved, someone he cared about and looked at with stars in his eyes. Things he never felt for you, but felt for her. Night after night you would choke on your own tears berating and cursing yourself for not being a good wife. Trying to figure out why you were so unloveable. Maybe you weren’t pretty enough, or smart enough, or ambitious enough. That giving your best to him as often as you could, however you could still wasn’t good enough.
Tom kissed your head again before gently taking your face in his hands and looking deep into your eyes resting his head against yours. Wishing he had the right words, wishing he could say what you needed to hear to undo the damage that fucking asshole did. “You are the most beautiful woman in the world.” He whispered a knot in his throat seeing the deep pain in your eyes that you had suffered these past years. “Even if he couldn’t see you, even if the world can’t see you . . . . you are my princess. You are so strong, so full of love that I can only hope . . . you’ll share it with me. I treasure your heart like nothing else. Even though you still haven’t given it to me completely, I cherish it more than I ever have anything my life.” He places a tender kiss to your lips, “On my life, I wish more than anything to have you as mine.”
You couldn’t stop your tears now as he could feel you tremble in his arms. “Tom.” You whisper drawing closer to him as he kisses you gently, anxiously, wanting to kiss all your tears away forever. You kissed him back before you wrap your arms around each other embracing tightly.
Tom knew how you felt about yourself. Michael had managed to convince you that you weren’t good enough. He could see it and hear it plainly. Convincing you that you were broken somehow, not worthy of being loved, not good enough for anyone. For a while because you were under the impression that you couldn’t have children and focused on that. But it went deeper than that, it wasn’t just the inability to have children, you thought there was something severely wrong with you. Having to watch Michael remarry, have children, and give another woman everything you had hoped for. Having him treat her with the love and respect you wanted so desperately from him, and worked so hard trying to have him love you like that. It was maddening, and it was cruel.
His hand moved over your back holding you tight, before moving up to your neck beneath your hair. However the wound on your neck was still incredibly tender and when his fingertips grazed it, it caused you to wince. “Oh, darling.” He said drawing back, “I’m sorry.”
“No, no it’s fine. I’m fine.” You reassured him not wanting him to let you go. But he reached over picking up the ice pack again and returning it to the worst of the bruises. It was going to be much worse by morning, much darker and probably expand around most of your neck. He hadn’t met Michael, but for his hand to reach that far around your neck it must have been massive. At least as big as Tom’s.
He took a breath still feeling incredibly angry, and worried, and hurt, and frustrated. “Please,” he begins, “Please call into work and take the day, and come to the set with me.” He asks you again a sincere pleading in his eyes. “There’s someone I should very much like you to meet.”
“Tom,” You swallow barely able to breathe, and your throat sore. “It’s not a good idea. Right now there are rumors that you’re seeing someone that would only just be confirming it and causing more problems we don't need.”
“I’m allowed to take friends on set darling. I’ve done it before and no one said a word about it. If it gets to be too much being around others then you can go to my trailer and rest.” Your eyes turn down not sure if you wanted that. You still couldn’t speak in a normal voice and chances were you weren’t going to be able to say anything by tomorrow. He ducked his head slightly searching for your eyes, “Please. I would feel much better if you were with me tomorrow. I’m asking you to come.”
You look up at him and took a breath giving a nod. He smiled a little knowing that this was hard for you and kissed your forehead grateful that you were willing to grant his request. “Here.” He takes your hand and places your hand over the ice pack. “Hold this, and I’ll go check on the tea. It should be ready, and the warmth will feel good to your throat.” You give a nod. He kisses your forehead gently before getting up and disappearing into the kitchen.
Reaching up, you wiped the tears from your eyes leaning back against the couch, resting your head against the back of it staring up at the ceiling. Everything was such a mess. Things seemed to be going so well and then as usual, Michael managed to get in the way and screw it up. Tom was so completely wonderful. Here he was taking care of you when he didn’t have to.
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