~Rachel's P.O.V~
"This isn't something you just do Rachel, this is marriage we're talking about." Thatch says, his eyes squinting at the light. "How does your mother feel about this?"
"She's skeptical, as expected but she doesn't go on and tell him that I'm better off with someone else." I hiss.
I can't believe that he had the audacity to say that to Marshall. Thatcher's changed since Cash, there's a darkness in him now. One that wasn't there before.
"I'm trying to protect you." He tells me, gripping the side of the kitchen island to keep from falling over. "He will just hurt you again."
"He won't Thatch, he's different now. He's changed since then." I defend Marshall of course, Thatcher's words mean little to me now. It's hard to get one that's not influenced by a drink.
"Men never change." He bites, turning away and sitting on the barstool. "They're all the same."
"Thatch I get that you're hurting." I say, feeling a pressing need to help him. "But you can't take it out on us. I love you, and I don't like seeing you this way."
"You think I want to be like this?" He asks me, his eyes welling with tears. "I would rather die than spend another minute missing him."
"Remember when Marshall left?" I ask, trying to jog his memory. "You told me that I needed to be strong, and that me moping around would only make it worse. You need to take your own advice."
"I can't." He growls at me, an expression of sadness washing over his face. "He pulled me out of the hole I was in, I let go of AJ and now I don't have anyone." He puts his face him his hands and sighs a frustrated breath.
"That's not true." I tell him, taking a few steps closer. "You have me."
"I know that." He says, and then the tears come. "I've got you but I don't at the same time. You're the only one I've got left and now Marshall's going to take you away from me more than he already has."
Oh. So that's what this is about. I tilt my head to the side slightly and look at Thatch with an empathetic expression. He doesn't hate Marshall, he doesn't hate us together, he hates that he's in pain. Pain makes people do things out of desperation. Now I know for sure that he didn't mean any of what he said. He's scared, and hurting, and broken. I feel for him.
I walk over and pull him up out of the chair into a hug. Thatcher has never been one to sob like I am. He cries silently, leaving almost zero trace of it when he's finished. But I hug him tight for however long he needs, and it feels like hours have passed but I know it's only been a few minutes.
"I'm sorry." He says quietly, sniffling.
"I know Thatch, it's okay. I forgive you."
We hug for a few minutes more and then he pulls away, drying his tears.
"I'm still worried." He tells me, less of a slur in his voice now. "But I want you to be happy."
"I am." I explain. "And it's not like we're moving anywhere. We'll still be a few minutes away."
"You don't think he's gonna get you a giant house with all his money?" He jokes half heartedly, showing only a hint of his past self.
"Not right away." I say, half smiling at the idea of Marshall buying us a house and half smiling at the idea of what we're gonna have to do to fill up that house. "But our lives are here Thatch, we're not going to leave."
"I don't know what to do anymore-"
He starts but gets cut off by the doorbell. Both our heads snap up in the direction. Thatcher's body tenses, but then he lets out a big sigh.
