Chapter Text
“What is your problem?” Belly asks heatedly, demanding an explanation other than simply because Laurel said so. She's so tired of her mother's disapproval for someone so close to her heart she may as well be disliking Belly herself.
The waiter comes and Belly deflates, hopeful the arrival might walk back the verbal assault.
“Actually, there has been a change in plans, cancel everything. I'll take the check.” Her mother says as she raises a hand to their waiter, waving him away.
“Are you serious?” Belly asks, her stomach dropping as her mother rudely asks to cancel their order.
How could she actually be mad at Belly being happy? At the fact that she loves her life and wants to take this beautiful step with the love of her life.
“Yes, I'm serious.” Laurel says, her nostrils flaring with rage as she glares Belly down. Not even asking if this is what Belly wants. Only caring that it isn't what Laurel wants.
No one ever asks her what she wants. She doesn't know why she expected this to go different.
She swallows down her disappointment, her face twisting as she tries to stay composed.
“Fine. Let's go, Jere.” Belly says, keeping her voice intentionally hushed to stop it from breaking.
Jeremiah doesn't question her, simply tosses his napkin down and dutifully follows her attentively, her hand wrapped around his arm, but she can see the punched out look on his face, the absent expression as he retreats into his mind and analyzes what he did wrong and what he can do to fix it.
Her poor sunshine boy is always convinced he's the problem, so naturally, he also has to be the solution. But Belly knows the only way to fix this, to satisfy their families – Laurel, especially – is to part ways and go along with what they want.
She knows her mother. Knows how she thinks.
When Belly doesn't do what Laurel says, she either pushes her towards Conrad or separates her from Jeremiah. Sometimes both at the same time.
Jeremiah is always so willing to placate them, her love is so starved for approval that he'll probably agree just to keep the peace. He'll want to do damage control, will sacrifice their wants so their families won't be too mad at them.
The problem is, Belly isn't too sure she wants to do anything to control this particular damage.
Her mother called them delusional. Her tone so sure, so enraged. What have you done? She cried, sounding as if Belly had just singlehandedly ruined her life.
Steven called them crazy. He sounded as if he truly believed them to be insane for not only deciding to get married, but for sounding happy and excited about it. The way he looked to Conrad and asked if he knew, like he needed to know if he gave permission for them to decide this.
Adam is either convinced Jeremiah impregnated her to trap her, she trapped him, or they're just the two most idiotic people on the face of the earth.
The cherry on the shit sundae was the pale, devastated look on Conrad's face the moment the news sunk in. He looked like a man who realized he was about to lose and was desperately searching for a way to turn the tide in his favor.
It sent chills down her spine, and it was not the good kind.
These chills were the ones you get when you know someone is going to demand something of you that you don't want to give.
Belly can almost feel the collar wrapping around her neck, the leash about to be pulled taut, and her stomach heaves in protest.
She doesn't want to be trapped anymore. Doesn't want to be pulled and yanked and coerced. She wants to be happy and free. Wants to laugh and play. Dance through the streets; day, night, doesn't matter. She wants so much, and she wants to do all of it with the man beside her.
The one who has always been right beside her.
Above all, Belly wants to marry him. People may think it's a bandaid, a desperate attempt to hold onto something that was supposed to be fleeting. But nothing has ever felt as everlasting as her love for Jeremiah Fisher.
To her, waiting to get married seems pointless. She knows what she wants, knows she'll never change her mind. So, to wait would only be for the comfort of those around her. But what about her comfort? What about her wants?
The only thing that would ever truly satisfy her mother is if she were to break up with Jeremiah. And that's a price she's unwilling to pay, even for her mother's love and approval.
So, why sit here and wait for them to come out and separate them? Why play at being the children their families are so convinced they are.
They're not children, they haven't been for a while. Maybe the parents need a reality check, perhaps they need a reminder that they can't move them about like pieces on a chessboard. Belly and Jeremiah can't keep giving them that power, can't keep enabling them.
Next to her, Jeremiah has a tight grip on her hand, they're outside at the top of the ramp and he looks shellshocked.
“Did you just…?” He trails off, the question obvious.
Belly shakes her head, guilty, halfway stunned at her own audacity, but also, truthfully, unapologetic. “Yeah, I know. I know, I'm sorry. I know you wanted to tell Conrad first, but I just couldn't stay quiet another second. I can't stand the way he talks about you.”
“No, no, I love how you want to stick up for me– I'm glad they know.” He quickly reassures, though his voice trembles with worry, his anxiety palpable.
Despite her own concern, Belly can't help but sigh in relief that he's not upset with her for putting him on the spot. If the situation were reversed and he were the one that shared their news without consulting her, she can't say she wouldn't be peeved at him.
“Me too.” She says, then pauses. And she is glad. Now she can wear her ring without feeling like she needs to be on the lookout for watchful eyes. But the situation is sinking in and, “Also, holy shit.” She exclaims.
“Holy shit.” He agrees as they speed walk down the long wooden ramp alongside the restaurant. She can hear the shrillness of her mother's voice and the loud anger from Jeremiah's father and she feels a moment of embarrassment for the people trying to enjoy their meal.
“Jere…” she begins, then trails off, a hint of foreboding creeping in. He must hear it in her voice because he abruptly turns to her.
“It's gonna be okay, they just need to cool off.” He reassures, soothingly, though she can see his adams apple bob as he swallows thickly.
Belly shakes her head, inching closer to him, seeking comfort from her favorite person. “I don't think so. You heard what Laurel was saying. I know my mom, she's not going to back down.” No, Laurel never backs down. Not until she knows she's won. Or until both sides have equally lost.
She stares at him imploringly, hoping he'll understand. This can't be solved with time and well thought out arguments. A stand needs to be made, or else it will never stop. They will never stop.
He looks at her, unconvinced, but not necessarily like he doesn't believe her, more like he doesn't want her to be right.
He grips her hand, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her palm, she rubs at his neck, his shoulder, needing to feel him, feeling like he's already gone.
“Bells, they're freaked out, that was the hard part. Even if they're pissed off now, they'll come around. They have to.” He insists, mustering a weak smile for her.
Belly shakes her head and the tiny encouraging smile on his face drops, his bright blue eyes darting between hers.
“Think about why they're freaked out, baby.” She says, distress making her voice shake. “They don't want us to be together, it's like they're just waiting us out.”
“Belly–” He starts,
At that moment Adam stomps past, not even bothering to look at his son, but he makes sure to scoff in disgust, condescension dripping off of him.
Jeremiah's face drops further, his shoulders sinking and Belly instinctively leans forward to kiss the pain away.
"Read the room," Steven groans out immaturely. "Alright? Less making out, more groveling." As if they need to apologize for living their lives.
He strides past in a decent imitation of Adam, straightening his suit as he passes, one hand clutching the food they never got to eat. Belly is immediately enraged and has to restrain herself from launching her heel at his head. If he weren't still recovering from a concussion, she wouldn't bother curbing the impulse.
Black flowing material whips by as her mother brushes past her in a way that's eerily similar to Adam, maybe all three have been taking dramatic storm out lessons.
“Belly get in the car, we're going home." Laurel demands, her words sharp and unwilling to compromise.
Belly isn't surprised, but she can't help the panic that bubbles up.
“Home?” She says, hopeful her mother will think rationally. “We're all going back to the house, aren't we?" Belly asks even though she knows the answer. Her mother can never put things aside to deal with later. If she's upset or disagrees, she always has to assert her will and put a stop to everything. This day is supposed to be in honor of Susannah, they hardly ever all get together anymore.
Belly and Jeremiah were trying to share good news, but because her mother disapproves, she's willing to ruin the entire day so she can stomp around and throw a tantrum.
She doesn't stop to consider that she shouldn't be ordering her adult daughter around like she's nothing but a troublemaking teenager.
“No, we're not.” Laurel proclaims, turning around abruptly to face them.
“Well, I'm staying here for the summer with Jeremiah, remember?" Belly says, trying to swallow down the familiar fear that always creeps in whenever she stands up to her mother.
“Well, plans change,” Laurel says dryly. Like she's telling her unruly child that they're no longer stopping for ice cream.
“You’re coming with us." Laurel states and Belly feels defiance flood her system. She's so tired of being told what to do. Of being treated like she doesn't know her own mind.
"You can't do that!" Belly exclaims, filled with righteous fury.
"Oh, yes I can!" Her mother asserts right back, the look in her eye promising violence if she keeps pushing.
Belly feels her bravery begin to leave her, Jeremiah has been quiet throughout the argument, a silent spectator behind her, and she's starting to feel like she's not strong enough to withstand her mother's will.
She feels herself hesitate, and is trying to come up with an argument when she feels a familiar hand slide up her arm and gently turn her around.
"Belly," Jeremiah says, his voice quiet, meant only for her. She looks into his eyes, and swallows thickly at what he might be about to say. If he gives in, if he goes along with their families, Belly worries they'll never make it out.
He searches her eyes. Whatever he finds makes him step closer, he licks his lips nervously.
"What do you want to do?” He asks and she feels her heart skip.
No one's ever asked her what she wants, before. They always assume.
“What?” She whispers,
“I’m with you,” He says, the deep timber of his voice immediately alleviating her fears, "Whatever you want to do, we'll do." He promises, holding eye contact, moving closer to lean his forehead against hers.
"Belly, come on!" Her mother growls and Belly jolts as she feels her boney hand clamp around her wrist and try to drag her away.
Jeremiah jumps like he's the one who was grabbed and she sees him step forward in alarm, but Belly rips her own arm out of her mother's hold before he can intervene. The sharp sting of Laurel's nails scraping down her arm makes her wince in pain, but she brushes it off and uses the surprise to turn around and lean into Jeremiah's embrace.
"You're with me?" She asks, her heart racing as she knows they only have seconds before her mother once again tries to grab her and physically drag her away.
Jeremiah gently takes her injured wrist in his hands and cradles it like he can heal it through touch.
"I'm always with you, Bells. I love you." He says passionately, sincerity pouring from him.
Belly can hear her mother getting baited by Jeremiah's father, unable to help arguing with Adam when the opportunity arises. Her mother claims Adam should have never let Jeremiah have enough money to buy a ring. Adam asserts that Belly probably trapped him, as his son isn't smart enough to withstand a halfway pretty girl.
They look at each other. She shakes her head, gently. ‘I don't want to be apart from you.’ She sends with her eyes.
He softens.
‘I don't want to be apart from you either.’ His gaze says right back.
Their esp is fully activated.
They're going to be really mad. Maybe the angriest they've ever been, but as they keep staring into one another's eyes, slow smiles growing on their faces, she knows it could only ever be absolutely worth it.
Their chests begin to rise and fall rapidly as adrenaline starts to pump, the decision solidified.
They haven't spoken it aloud, but they know.
Belly grasps Jeremiah's hand, their fingers tangling together, and suddenly they're running through the restaurant parking lot, their families audibly arguing in the background, her mother so absorbed in her anger she doesn't register them taking off.
They lock in on the bulky body of Jeremiah's jeep, breaking out into a sprint. The bright red salvation unfortunately parked right beside her mothers car. Their feet slap roughly against the asphalt as they cross the parking lot, Jeremiah's free hand frantically digging through his pocket for his key so he can unlock it.
They only drop each other's hand to climb in the car, the slamming of the door jarring. Belly's breath trembles as she watches Jeremiah's shaking hands start the car. She pushes her hair back and catches the restaurant door open out of the corner of her eye.
Before she can look, Jeremiah turns to face her, the sunlight illuminating his beautiful eyes, specks of blues and greens normally hidden brought to life.
They stare at one another for a beat, their chests heaving up and down. The seriousness of the moment fades away as her gaze catches on a drop of sweat rolling down his temple and before she knows it, they crash into each other. She flies at him, her hand wrapping around his burgundy tie at the same moment he hooks a large palm behind her head and brings her to him. They kiss like the world's on fire and they want to burn so closely together that their ashes are one and the same.
She loses herself to him, finds herself in him, only to be reborn again by his touch.
"Isabel Conklin!" A shrill voice breaks through the life-changing moment, and they disconnect with a loud smack.
Jeremiah's hair is a mess from her wandering hand and his lips are bright red, but it's the sight of their families pushing their way across the parking lot of the restaurant that pulls their focus.
Her mother is fuming, his father looks ready to break things, and Steven is covering his face with the pastel blue folded crane holding his leftovers, though the jerk peeks out above the head of it to watch. She spots Conrad standing at the top of the wooden ramp, obviously having just exited the restaurant and not bothering to join their families in the chase. Both hands tangled tightly into his hair as he watches on with that same devastated, crazed look on his face.
Belly takes all this in within seconds as all the unhealthy amount of adrenaline in her system slows things down for her.
Jeremiah's panicked voice breaks her out of her gaze. "Holy shit, do I–"
"Drive, Jere, drive." Belly says, turning her shocked face to her panicked boyfriend, bracing her own shaking hands on the dashboard and door. She smiles cheekily at him when he hesitates a moment too long.
"Unless you want to fight my mom.”
His eyes widen even more than they already are, the whites of them showing very clearly. "Oh, hell no." Jeremiah says as he puts the car in drive and presses on the gas, the tires squeal as they burn rubber, the car stalling for a heart stop moment as Laurel closes in like a heat seeking missile.
"Don't you dare!" Laurel shrieks from ten feet away.
Ten feet too far.
The wheels finally gain traction and they shoot forward, Jeremiah quickly curves around her, the tendons in his hands standing out as he clutches the steering wheel and heads straight for the exit.
"Sorry!" He yells out of the window, even as he presses harder on the gas.
They hit the street and Jeremiah immediately turns to head toward the freeway.
It's silent for a moment, before they both whoop loudly as the air rushes through the open windows.
____________
Once they've driven a decent distance with Jeremiah randomly transferring onto different junctions, he signals to pull over so they can take a moment for the adrenaline to fade. Belly finishes turning off her location and reaches over to grab his phone from his pocket. Jeremiah doesn't comment, simply slightly lifts his leg so she can reach it better.
Waking the screen, Belly smiles at the familiar picture of him laying on her lap in the quad as she reads to him. She taps in her birth date and quickly turns his location off as well.
“There,” She sighs in relief, locks his phone and puts it in the center console next to her own. She turns to face him, tries to conceal the nerves bubbling up.
“What do we do? Where do we go?” He finally asks, still facing the dashboard.
Belly leans in and runs her hand up his shoulder, gives a slight tug to his collar, but he doesn't turn to her. His temple jumps as he works his jaw.
She doesn't think he's mad at her, but she is worried he wasn't quite ready to go against their families so blatantly.
“Jere?” She nudges, her heart pounding away in her chest.
“I'm just– I'm scared.” He mumbles, that familiar stubborn tilt of his head as if he's trying to shrug off the vulnerability.
“Look at me.” Belly reaches out and cups his face, he resists for another moment, but then he gives in to her and allows her to turn his head to face her. She rubs her thumb soothingly at the tense muscle of his clenched jaw.
“Look at me.” She demands, gently. His eyes finally snap to hers and she can feel them get trapped in her gaze. Just as trapped as she is in his.
“What am I thinking?” She asks, not looking away.
“I don't know.” He whispers.
“You know.” She asserts, focused on the pure blue of his eyes in this light.
His thick, dark lashes flutter as his eyes drop down and he stares at her lips. He doesn't last long there and soon he falls into her as if succumbing to gravity. She wraps her arms around his neck and lets herself be devoured by his soft, full lips.
She twists her fingers into his hair and tries to pull him even closer, but he's as close as he can possibly get in the limited space of his car.
They pull apart sooner than either would like and lock eyes again. They don't need to say a word, she can read him as clearly as if he whispered directly in her ear.
They're on the same page.
They won't be apart, they can't be.
They've gotten a taste of separation, a true, visceral experience as they stared at the abyss opening up between them and almost called it too insurmountable to cross.
Neither is interested in anything coming between again.
Jeremiah clenches his jaw fiercely and nods at her, pure resolve burning in his eyes. Belly smiles at him, her cheeks hurting from the force of it, the ball of happiness in her gut growing, swallowing the sting of their parents disapproval.
Jeremiah slips his hand into hers, tangles their fingers together, and pulls off of the shoulder. Merging lanes as he takes them far away.
Belly picks her phone back up and starts searching for Inns or lodgings that offer elopement packages.
They weren't asking for permission. They're not going to beg for forgiveness. They're just going to treat that disastrous meal like a courtesy call. Their families have been informed, that's all they owe to them.
They don't want to support them? They can't be happy for them?
Then they don't get to be a part of their wedding.