002: Missing Pieces

"Another Whiskey and Coke, please?"

Sam Jones lifted her now-empty glass to show the bartender on duty that another drink was in order. Setting it down on the counter, the blonde held onto the edge of the surface, keeping herself from toppling over. She'd already downed two other glasses in addition to the one she'd just set down. It had been ages since she'd been this wasted and there weren't any immediate plans to stop. Alcohol was the quickest relief for the rejection she'd felt ever since her husband had stood her up. Smith was supposed to have arrived in Vegas earlier in the afternoon and then they were going out to dinner. He'd texted her thirty minutes before his flight was set to arrive and told her he had another engagement that he had to travel to, instead. Lately, he was constantly on the road, wrestling (or so he claimed) and it felt like he was doing everything in his power to avoid her. This was just another in the long line of disappointments and she wondered if he was ever going to come home at this rate. In the back of her mind, Sam suspected it had something to do with a younger female wrestler that Smith had been tutoring and she couldn't help the jealousy she felt or the stupidity at being jealous.

She was nothing more than a trophy wife.

Her fourth drink was slid over to her as she held it up, toasting the bartender. "Thanks, Palsy. You truly are a king among men." Bringing the glass to her lips, she took a long sip and forced herself not to cry in public at how empty her life had become.

The rap of knuckles against the bar came in a lull between songs and then a voice spoke from beside her, "G and T, when you have a moment." The timbre was familiar, an odd blend of New York softened with British undertones. "Pardon me, love. Is this seat taken?"

The voice caused her to freeze as she recognized who it belonged to. Unable to stop the silly grin that crossed her face, she turned and laid eyes on her best friend's older brother. "Ain't you a sight for sore eyes?" Upon seeing him, Sam took another swallow and set her glass down.

Jude Mitchell had been watching her for the last hour, unsure if he wanted to approach but the more she drank, the more he felt as though those actions were calling him to her side— white knight bullshit at its finest. He remembered the last time he'd seen her this out of control, remembered the wreckage afterwards. Even now, those old wounds still ached.

"Big surprise seeing you. How ya been, Jude?"

"Fairly good." He shrugged as he took the seat next to her, reaching for his drink as it was set down. "Can't complain, really. Been helping Rick out here for a while, since this whole worldwide plague nonsense has truly put a damper on my promising Broadway career."

"I'm sorry to hear that." She followed his lead and sat on the stool that she'd been leaning against. "This whole pandemic has been just one big damper." She grabbed her glass again to take another drink. "Can't fight city hall though, am I right?" Her words became more slurred with each drink she took. "Just gotta wait it out. My whole life; one big waiting game."

His smile was tinged with sadness as he nodded, lifting his glass as a sort of salute, "I'll drink to that. Never in the right place, always the wrong time." A sigh came out on the heels of that swallow and even the clean crispness of the drink did little to lift his spirits. He knew there was something bothering her, something huge by the looks of it, but he didn't feel as though he had any right to pry. "Fuck the patriarchy," he muttered instead, setting his glass down empty.

"See, now you have the right idea." She finished her drink and signalled for another. "You always had this humongo brain, sometimes filled with secrets." Waggling her eyebrows at him, she couldn't help from laughing.

"Oh yes, all the secrets." If she only knew.

"You are the last person I expected to see tonight."

"If I'm being honest, that's pretty mutual. Last person I expected to see in a place like this." He chuckled, shaking his head, "not that there's anything wrong with you coming here. I just meant… worlds colliding, you know? It's weird. A good weird, honestly, but still…" shrugging, he stopped talking, realizing he was rambling like an idiot. "Anyhow, it's good to see you, Sammy. Really good."

Sam had trouble describing how it felt when Jude had called her that nickname. There was some tensing in her chest mixed with butterflies in her stomach. "You, too." She gave him a warm smile before leaning in to hug him. "Sorry we didn't get to talk much at the wedding." She'd been married to Smith for only four months – that had been the last time she'd seen him. She hadn't even known that Jasmine had been intending to bring him as her +1 until she'd seen him sitting there and it had taken everything in her not to flee.

"Was a lovely ceremony though," Jude replied, almost as though he knew what thoughts were running through her head behind those wide eyes of hers. It was a lie. He barely remembered the day, had been taking nips from a flask of straight vodka even before the ceremony had begun because he couldn't bear the thought of her marrying someone else – of course he didn't tell her that. He managed a thin smile as she pulled back from that embrace, nodding. "Well, you were otherwise engaged – er, occupied," he quickly corrected himself, unable to keep that hint of sarcasm from his tone. "So, how are things?"

"Things are…" she paused, unsure how to explain that her marriage seemed over before it had even hit the six month mark. "I'm here, aren't I? Things can't be all that bad, right?" She felt a prickle of tears as she blinked them away. "Lucky me, right?"

"You're here. Alone." Jude leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice slightly. "I suppose it's a matter of perspective, how lucky you are." His chuckle was wry as he shook his head, his lips almost touching the skin beneath her ear. "I'm inclined to see a silver lining, though. You're here. I'm here. God, I've missed you."

"Missed lil ol' me?" His admission surprised her as she honestly didn't think she was worth a second thought. "I'm sure you've had plenty of things and people to keep you occupied."

The offhand comment caught him by surprise, and he couldn't help but burst out laughing at how far off the mark that was. "Uhh…sure. My social calendar's just bursting at the seams."

"Why wouldn't it be?" Setting down another empty glass, her full attention was now on him. Both of her hands moved to his shoulders as she looked him squarely in the eyes. "You're handsome, you're kind, and you are important. Bet there is a line of frisky women you don't know about just waiting to sink their claws into you."

He stared right back at her, almost as if daring her to see the truth reflected in his eyes. "That might be true." His shoulders twitched with a sort of shrug under her hands. "Not that I care to explore it. Hooks. Claws. Teeth. None of that sounds appealing in the least." Dismissing that image, he shifted his focus to the other thing she'd said. "Important? In what universe is that even remotely accurate?"

"Well, the universe where I reside, for starters." Alcohol was her truth serum.

He sighed, shaking his head as he reached for his drink. The silence was heavy even though the club around them was full of noise. "Yeah. Important people usually get looped in on current events, rather than finding out about a wedding–" he broke off, not wanting to pick a fight with her, especially when she was drinking like this.

What he'd said caused Sam to wince as something shifted in her gaze, almost as if a mask went up to hide how much his comment had stung. "Right." She dropped her hands from his shoulders as if they'd been burned. Forcing an overly fake smile on her face, she cleared her throat and turned back to the bar. "Looks like I need another drink." She signaled to the bartender for another, trying to resist the urge to flee. As soon as she was able to get away, she would call an Uber to take her home, she decided. The last thing she wanted to do was be here in the presence of someone who clearly wanted nothing to do with her.

The moment she pulled away, he felt like she'd sucker punched him in the guts and it took everything in him to keep that benign smile on his face. He hadn't intended to be confrontational – the words had just slipped out on their own, the hurt overflowing after having been stuffed down, too deep for too long. "Sorry," he murmured, downing the rest of his drink in one go before pushing the empty glass forward. He made eye contact with the tender, watched while the man watered down the next drink before setting it in front of Sam before making another for him. "That was rude of me. It's been a weird night. Let's start over, hmm? Wasn't trying to rattle any cages. You had your reasons and it's none of my business."

"Why apologize? You aren't wrong." She thanked the bartender, watching as he moved off before reaching for her drink. "Didja know there isn't a single person in my life that I don't constantly disappoint?"

"I find that hard to believe," Jude replied, turning so that his back was to the bar. He pretended to look over the crowd as though he was doing his job, but he was still mostly focused on her. "You sure that's not just the liquor talking?"

She truly wished that was the case, but this past year had made her feel like a failure. "Not even a little bit." She'd tried talking to Smith about what had been bothering her, but he never seemed to listen to her. Things with her father had gotten better, but there were still a lot of scabbed-over wounds.

"Is that's what happened then? You and the husband had a fight?" He tried to keep the question casual, but there was a hint of something in those words that was almost menacing. If the bastard had hurt her in any way, he was more than happy to go on a rampage, especially seeing her like this.

"In order to fight, I'd have to actually talk to him other than for him to tell me he won't be back until next week… which is whatever." Picking up her drink, she downed about half of it in one swallow. "But no, he and I didn't fight. The only thing going on here is years of trauma finally catching up to me. Can't keep pushing it all down."

"No, I suppose you can't. There's only so much space." He chuckled; the sound was completely devoid of humor as he turned back towards her. "Sorry, that came off a bit crass, didn't it? Wasn't trying to be… just seems like my mouth's got a mind of its own tonight."

The longer he looked at her, the more he felt an urge to toss her over his shoulder and carry her from this god-awful place. She seemed so small, so much more fragile than he remembered, and he wanted nothing more than to hold her until that pain in her gaze disappeared. It was déjà vu in the worst sort of way, reminding him of that night everything had changed. He should have told her then, should have confessed everything he'd been feeling. Instead, he'd tried to play it cool and had lost her.

"You said there's nobody waiting up for you, yeah? Wanna… go somewhere?" Before she could answer, he rushed to fill the silence, "just to talk. Or… just sit in silence if you'd rather… without this eurotrash music blasting away at our eardrums?"

That mask that had suddenly popped up fell away as she nodded, not really trusting herself to speak. She was on the verge of tears and didn't even attempt to stop them when they started to slide down her cheeks.

He turned, making eye contact with the bartender, "put hers on my tab. I'll cover it, Maurice." He got off the stool and walked closer to her, a gentle hand on her waist as he helped her down from her seat.

"Can you take me home?" She no longer felt like a slap-happy drunk, instead she felt sick and on the verge of a meltdown. "Or somewhere that there aren't people?"

He stepped back and held out his hand to her, trying to gauge how unsteady she was going to be. "We'll go upstairs. There's a great view and nobody else about. How's that sound?"

Sam could only nod as she let Jude continue to hold her hand, leading her out of the nightclub and to a secret elevator. Tears continued to stream down her face, her mascara having blackened her cheeks. Together, they entered a lush penthouse as Sam walked over and took a seat on the plush leather sofa near the floor-to-ceiling windows. She didn't even notice the view, instead staring down at the coffee table. She didn't know what to say, feeling absolutely childish and idiotic.

She wasn't aware of Jude, of where he was in the room until he set a glass of ice water on the table in her field of view and sat down next to her, the couch shifting slightly. "Here." He handed her a damp washcloth that was the softest thing she ever felt. "Rebel Rebel, your face is a mess." He softly sang the words, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, I'm sure it probably is."

"Here, let me," he murmured, taking the cloth from her, and using it to wipe away the blackened tear tracks on her face.

"Thanks," her mouth gently upturned into a smile as she looked up at him. Leaning back against the couch, she smoothed back her hair. "Once I'm a little more sober, I'll call an Uber."

"No rush." He murmured, leaning back against the couch with a sigh as he tossed the cloth on the table. "Is this better? Less abrasive to the senses?"

Her head fell back against the cool leather as she nodded. "Yeah, my head doesn't feel so poundy." Her eyes focused on the ceiling. "God, what the hell am I doing with my life? I'm a fucking trophy wife. That's all I'm ever gonna be."

"That's not even remotely what you're destined to be." The words came out before he could check them, the adoration he felt for her colouring every syllable. "Fuck that guy if he's too damned stupid to realize what he's got."

"Honestly? Guess I married a guy like my dad. He always was gone when I needed him most." Turning her head, her eyes focused on him. "I feel like I'm in the middle of a crowded room, screaming and no one notices."

"Maybe the wrong people are in that room?" He stretched his arm out against the back of the couch, close enough to touch but not quite making contact. "So, why'd you come here tonight? Of all the places you could've gone… why Lux?"

Sam exhaled deeply as her shoulders went up in a shrug. "It seemed like as good of a place as any. Don't want to be in that castle he calls our home." The mansion that Smith had bought for them was chosen by him without much input from her. "And I can't go to my parents for them to see me like this. Things between my dad and I are tense, and I don't know how it's going to turn out."

"Right. Makes sense." Jude nodded, even though he felt like hunting down Smith Jones and crushing the asshole's windpipe. Tapping the tips of his fingers against the couch, he resisted the urge to reach out and play with a strand of her hair. "Well, good thing we've got this comfortable couch… all this space and nobody to listen in. Consider this your safe space? Tell me whatever you want. It won't leave here, I promise. Won't even tell my sister."

She'd always trusted him and despite what had happened that terrible night, she knew he'd keep her safe. Even at that moment, she felt safer with Jude than anyone else, apart from her father. "My dad resents Smith and the fact that I rushed into everything. I don't even know why I pursued it. It just kind of helped with the loneliness that was constantly there. Honestly, I'm just a warm body to him."

"And a part of you hates that your dad was right about it? Yeah, I can see how that makes it even worse." He moved his hand, gently touching her shoulder just for a moment, "loneliness is a hell of a motivator, isn't it? Got me out of that empty apartment in Greenwich Village – felt like this post-apocalyptic world for the longest time, surrounded by all my rations and completely isolated. Guess it helps to be at peace with yourself, makes it easier to spend time in your own company." Jude chuckled ruefully, shaking his head at his own words, "not that I am, at peace I mean. I'm doing my best…" he trailed off, not wanting to make this all about his own feelings. He knew if she were his wife, he'd spend every moment making her feel like the center of the universe. There would never be any room for doubts like this.

"I miss you." The confession came out before she had a chance to stop it. "I didn't realize it 'til just now." Her hand came out and rested on his chest, playing with the fabric of his shirt. "I think if I'd have just stuck around with you, I coulda gotten better." Her brow furrowed as it truthfully occurred to her that she'd never gotten through what had happened to her, she'd just started running away from it and hadn't stopped since. "I'm so stupid."

"No. You're not." He lifted his hand, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear.

"I am. You never left my side. You tried so hard to make it better." She sniffled, "I am so sorry, Jude. I should have stayed with you." She wasn't able to deny the fact that he still held the biggest piece of her heart.

"What's done is done. Can't change it now." He was keenly aware of her hands, wondering if she was going to start messing with the buttons next. Not that he planned to stop her. "Things happen in their own time, Sammy. Don't need to waste sorries on that. I'm just as much to blame. Let you go without a fight. Biggest mistake I ever made, letting the one I loved slip away."

At first his words didn't register as she ran her fingers over the buttons on his shirt, realizing that he'd removed the tie that had been hiding them before. "It shouldn't have just been on you to work everything out for me. You've always been my protector." Her bottom lip stuck out, almost as if she were pouting. "I'm sorry," she said it again as she leaned her head in and rested it on his shoulder.

He couldn't resist wrapping his arms around her. He didn't care that she technically belonged to someone else. She was here now and with a bit of liquor in his system, he wasn't quite as reserved as usual. "I tried my best," the words came out softly, "but the world sucks. Wants nothing more than to tear all the good things apart." It felt so good to have her in his arms, like she'd always belonged there and that piece that had been missing for so long was finally here, locked in place. "I'm here, where I'm meant to be. You're safe."

"I know I am." At that moment, Smith was the furthest thing from her mind as she looked up into the face of someone she adored, the realization of what he'd just told her crashing down on her. "I wanna come home to you." Even though she was still drunk, she was one hundred percent honest.

Jude chuckled, "well, for the moment, this is where I'm staying. My cousin Rick owns this place, but he's…stepped back a little to focus on other things. So, mi casa…" he shrugged. "Stay with me. Tonight. Tomorrow. As long as you want."

"Yes," she said as she couldn't help but lean in and press her lips against his as her hand clutched the material of his shirt.

The moment her lips touched his, he was undone. His hand came up to tangle in her hair and he kissed her back hungrily. When it broke, they were both breathless and he rested his forehead against hers. "Tell me you want this," it was a rough whisper, "tell me you're sober enough that this isn't…"

"I've never wanted anything more." She moved her body so that she was straddling him, her hands undoing his buttons. "I just want to be with you." Admitting to the things she had, helped sober her up enough to know and consent to what was going on.

"All I ever wanted," he echoed her words, his hands sliding up her thighs, beneath the silky material of the dress she had on as his lips found hers again for another hungry kiss. He'd fantasized about a moment like this for so long and now here she was, in the flesh. "God, you're so beautiful." He whispered the words, kissing her neck now as his hands roamed a little higher.

Sam closed her eyes for a moment before pulling back to look him in the eye. "If we do this, there's not any turning back." She'd gotten his shirt undone and her hands were on his bare shoulders, nails digging into his skin. "I will get my marriage annulled."

He said nothing for a long moment, his eyes locked on hers as he drank in the feel of her skin on his, committing it to memory. "No take-backs. No regrets, whatsoever." He knew though, if she changed her mind in the morning, he'd regret plenty if he didn't tell her the truth, making sure she understood exactly what he meant. "I…" his voice broke, and he cleared his throat. "I want you, Sammy. I love you. Still do. Always have."

Her face lit up at his admission as a big smile crossed her face. "I love you too. Always."

Hearing her say that was the most beautiful thing in the world and he couldn't bring himself to say anything that might ruin the moment. Instead, he kissed her again, letting everything he'd ever felt for her flow into that press of lips before it deepened and grew more desperate.