I’ve really got to ask, what makes you so much different than me? Is it the way in which you comb your hair, or the fact that you get dressed in front of him each morning? Because I can’t seem to understand, as far as I’m concerned there should be no question as to who he should be with, yet, there he stands, arm around you, comfortable as can be.

Then there’s me.

Inside, my body trembles, outside I show no fear, no anxiousness, even though I feel like I have a thousand spiders crawling inside of me, eating me alive. The numbness is overwhelming because I can’t stand to be around the situation where you get everything. You get his smile, his laugh, his highs, his lows and here I sit, perpetually lonely in a world filled with love. 

You giggle smugly, knowing deep down that you’ve got ultimate control over every aspect of his life. You giggle because you know that my heart continues to crack and falter every time his hand graces yours or his nose nudges your face. You can almost hear it, like a nail hitting ice, I’m doomed to falter one of these days. 

He has eyes only for you, he’s unable to clearly see what stands in front of him because he’s fogged up beyond belief by the stooper that you’ve put him in. How am I supposed to break free of this? How am I supposed to move on when I know deep down that the only person capable of satisfying my void of love, is him. 

I’ve sat and contemplated the multitude of ways to get rid of you. In reality, it wouldn’t be all that hard. You’d find somebody else, break his heart and leave me to sweep up the pieces. Or, there would be the option for him to cheat on you, even though deep down I know he could never, he would never, it’s totally out of the question. 

He speaks, pulling me out of the conscious drive to get rid of you, “Liz,” he states, “we’re gonna get going, okay?” 

“Uh, well, okay... I’ll see you later,” as usual, he pulls me into a hug embracing his warm arms around my figure, gently squeezing at the last second. 

“Merry Christmas, Lizzy.” 

“Yeah,” I stammer, “Merry Christmas, J.”

The snow begins to blanket the ground and I walk inside, clutching to the scent that has overcome my clothes. It’s difficult to bear, as I already know that no matter what I do, every time I inhale I can recall every memory of how this all began.

It was simple, really, I can remember the August afternoon as though it was yesterday. 

I had always been the soft, comforting shoulder to cry on when the time came, after another person decided it was time to break his heart. Even during sophomore year, when one of my friends decided it would be a good idea to let him off easily the week before the dance. I had always promised him that it would always get better, there would be absolutely no reason for him to worry. “Another girl would come along,” I always said, “another one so much better than before.”

“You know I’m not coming with you to some stupid ass college party,” he states over the phone. “Trace,” he hollers into the background voices, “will you shut the fuck up.”

I can faintly hear the little monster “Lizzy and Justin sittin’ in a tree, f u c k i n-” screams and grunts take over the phone as I can clearly hear my best friend tackling his so-called brother. 

“You son of a bitch, what did I tell you?” He screams.

“J, stop being such a pussy, admit it already, you lo-” more grunts are heard over the phone and he comes back on the line in a huff. 

“I’ll be there at seven,” he states and the line goes dead. 

I had spent the whole night worried about what to wear, panicking on how I would present Justin to my friends. Was he my boyfriend? Best friend? Lover? Friend with benefits? The lines had been crossed so many times that right angles now looked like blurred circles.

He had shown up thirty minutes late as always promised when he gave a time and I wasted no time when it came to introducing him to all of my friends. 

“Justin, I’d like you to meet Lauren, my old roommate. Lauren, this is Justin.”

Lauren looked up, shocked, “You did not tell me you had such good looking best friends, Liz.” 

“Yeah, you’re not the only one she kept that secret from,” and he made the most annoying gesture after that, he winked. As if silently stating and guaranteeing that he, too, would be seeing much more of Lauren in his life.

The rest is practically history. Lauren and Justin began dating that night and have been for the past seven months. It’s nauseating actually. He claims that it feels like his puzzle has been completed, there are no more missing pieces left. She claims that he’s the most amazing thing in the world, second only to his black AmEx. 

I peak around to the living room, my mom looking at me with a disapproving look. To her and Lynn, we have always been the perfect match, both just too damn stubborn to see past our own selfish pride. 

“Honey,” she states as she places another homemade ornament on the tree, “you know it won’t last with her. Shoot, they never stay around long enough for both holidays.”

I glance up, worried, wondering if my face has given that much away. I should know better than to let me see her like this, within the next fifteen minutes she’ll be on her phone to her best friend and it will be the same conversation as it always is. 

“You know that boy, sugar.” she states in her warm southern accent, “try as hard as he may, he can’t keep that type a girl around. The Lord obviously doesn’t seem to think any of those girls be good enough.”

They obviously are, I silently think, because if that wasn’t the case then he would have realized what has been standing in front of him for years. “I know, Momma. What am I gonna do, though? I can’t just keep waiting around for him to come to his senses. I’ve waited around for twenty years and it’s gotten me nowhere.”

She continues to place the ornaments on the tree, pointing at certain ones for me to hand her as she sips her glass of wine. “I know what you’re thinking, you can’t give up,” she promises, “because if you do, he will too.” 

Well, that clearly made a lot of sense. I silently get up, attempting to collect my thoughts with me as I walk up the stairs. I know what’s going to happen this season, matter of fact, I’ve seen it all before. The crazy thing is that he hasn’t even been seeing this girl all that long but the way he speaks about her, you’d swear there was no one else in the world for him. 

I look down at my phone to check my messages and sure enough, he’s left me a text. 

Still on for shopping tomorrow- J

A tear gently streams down my face as I know what he is referring to. I wasn’t supposed to let myself get like this, I was supposed to be strong. Now, though, I don’t believe I’m strong enough to handle the inevitable. 

Sure, see you then.

He quickly responds and I already know what the message will say, as it always does whenever it has been time to help him out with something big. 

You’re the best, what would I do without you?

“Maybe... maybe you should-” my mind halts my thoughts. Maybe you should consider your other options. 

“Maybe I should what, Liz?” He asks, turning to smile at me while we stare at the precious stone that lays on the counter. It’s gorgeous actually, physically dynamic in it’s own way. I’ve actually never seen anything like it before. 

The stone itself is a round cut diamond, about four carats, and around it he plans on having interlocking triangle trivet diamonds, increasing the width of those for every ten years that he believes they’ll stay together. 

He’s buying her something like this because deep down inside he believes that Lauren will be impressed by his creativity and the sheer size of the stone itself, he wouldn’t be wrong. What he can’t seem to understand is that anything less than five carats to Lauren is completely unacceptable for somebody who is dating the biggest celebrity of all time. 

Tell him, you moron. My mind chides in to my thoughts as my jaw seems to regain it’s natural structure after he first dragged me along with him to this store. 

“Liz, maybe I should what?” He questions again. 

Tell him you fucking moron, tell him! I tell my mind to shutup, “I mean, are you sure a round cut is what she’s going to want, I thought she was a fan of the square.”

He looks at the stone quizzically, considering his options. Price of course is no object to him but he wants nothing less than perfect for the supposed love of his life. 

“Hmm. Maybe you’re right, we can always change that later though, right?” The clerk nods, simply in awe of the fact that Justin Timberlake is in a Tiffany’s actually purchasing an engagement ring hours before Christmas Day. He’s specifically requested the store, at eleven at night open only for the two of us. The windows all are covered by the signature color curtains and Tiny is sitting in a stool across from us, shaking his head back and forth every time I go to look at him. 

I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, and as usual when I’m with Justin, I ignore it, knowing it’s probably an unimportant text. The phone continues to persistently buzz and I look at the caller ID to which I flash to Justin. 

“Don’t say anything,” he commands and like his own personal slave, I have intentions of obeying, no matter who it betrays.

“Hey Trace,” I mumble onto the speaker. 

“Hey Liz-bo!” The greeting although, classless yet so Trace, doesn’t have the ability to alter my mood in the least. “What chu’ up to?” He questions.

“I’m just hanging out,” I state, lies implied at the way my voice shakes as I talk to Justin and my best friend. 

I watch Justin continue to speak to the clerk who has begun to secure the ring into the blue box with a ribbon on top. I can faintly hear Trace in the phone as I feel myself screaming at me. I know this is wrong, I feel it in every part of my body, the puzzle pieces just don’t fit. I haven’t figured this jigsaw out, but something about this just doesn’t seem right. 

“... I mean I don’t know if you’re busy, and if you are that’s totally cool. But I don’t know, I just kind of figured we should talk about this Lauren chick. I don’t like her at all, Liz. I really don’t feel good about it.” The word Lauren wakes me up from my trance. 

“Wait, what Trace?” 

“This bitch, Liz, I don’t like her at all. It’s time we get rid of her, Liz-Ace style.” 

I laugh at his inability to craft slick nicknames, but also his ability to read girls for his best friend almost as well as I can. “And what if we can’t, Trace? Then what?”

“Oh we will. We have to, long before he decides to buy a ring. After that, Liz, the deal’s sealed, it’s all over,” I see the clerk handing Justin the box and I feel the tears beginning to well up in my eyes. 

“Trace, I’ll have to call you back.” I turn to Justin, who looks like the happiest man on earth. I turn to Justin, telling him goodbye. “J, best of luck, Merry Christmas. I’ll see you at Lynn’s tomorrow?”

I practically run to my car, only to be stopped by Tiny who I could have sworn was still sitting in the store. 

“You know it don’t have to be like this.” The large man says looking down to me. 

“Yes,” I quip through the tears, “yes it does. Because he has to be happy and I won’t refuse him of that.”

“Elizabeth use your God given smarts. That boy is blinded by something that ain’t there. You got to do something before it’s too late or you’ll have nobody to blame but yo-self.” Knowing of who is on his way down the stairs, he lets go of his strong hold on my shoulders and allows me to pass as the tears begin to flow more freely. 

I run to the car and before the car door is even fully closed, I’ve drove off into the darkness. It’s cold and bleak, like the feeling that resounds throughout my body right now. I can’t stop the tears from falling because I know that I can’t stop myself from loving somebody that I know will never truly love me back. 

I pull into Trace’s driveway, afraid of the reaction he may have to my news. I know I shouldn’t be doing this, I’ll just disappoint Justin beyond belief. I stay in the car, thinking through my decision to come here over and over. I hear the pounding on the car window and I don’t turn to look, just unlock the door, I continue to feel the strain on my heart as Trace repeatedly asks what’s wrong.

“He..” I start, but can’t seem to finish. I yank my phone from the cup holder, trying to find the strength to speak the words that refuse to come from my mouth. 

“He what, Liz? He what? What did he do?”

“Liz, you gotta tell me what he did.”

I can’t take the strain anymore and I cry out, “He bought her a ring! He did it tonight but he wouldn’t let me tell you. He made me come with him because he cares so much about my opinion.”

“Come on,” Trace states, fuming, pulling me out of the car, “we’ve got work to do.” 

Momma always used to tell me that the loneliest part of life is not comforted by money or jewels but by the people that make your heart warm. The sad part about that statement is the fact that no matter what I’ve attempted to do my cold heart refuses to go beyond a lukewarm stage.

I woke up in a strange bed, in a strange room, only to quickly realize that I must’ve fallen asleep while working with Trace on our so-called “plan” to destroy the Lauren Justin phenomenon. I pull the covers over my body, trying to restore some warmth. No matter what, I feel like I constantly have the chills, I constantly feel like somebody has locked me in a refrigerator and left me to die. 

Trace walks into the room, carrying a cup of coffee and a box of tissues. “I wasn’t sure if you needed these,” he hands me the box, “you went through three of them last night alone.” 

“Thanks,” I state. I can still feel the tears threatening to flood the gates again. Last night was the first night that I’m pretty sure I cried straight through my sleep up until I had run out of tissues. I quickly shake my head and place my hair up in a bun, convincing myself that I will not wallow in self pity, I will not let this bitch bring me down. 

He sits down on the bed, handing me the coffee, readjusting himself so that he’s comfortable with his legs crossed and back up against the headboard. “You know, Liz-bo, I always wanted to get into a bed with you,” he winks, “just never thought it’d happen like this.”

I slowly sip the coffee, thankful for it’s warmth. I can feel it as it travels down my throat and passes close enough to my heart to radiate a little bit of heat to the most needed area of my body. I quickly notice that I’ve spilt a little on my shirt, a shirt that clearly does not belong to me. The size, smell and design have no resemblance to anything I would wear. The Carolina blue covers all of the cotton and the smell of Armani cologne intoxicates me. I pull my knees close to my body and continue to inhale the fragrance that is on the pajama pants as well. 

Trace clears his throat and immediately I jerk my head up, feeling pathetic and lonely. It’s Christmas morning and I’m not even at my own house. I haven’t gotten my traditional Christmas breakfast, nor have I opened gifts with my family, and the only desire I feel at the moment is to hide under the covers again and skip Christmas completely. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Trace quips, “And the answer is no. We cannot skip a Hall Christmas.”

I look up at him, “She would understand, you know. It’s not like she’s totally oblivious to what is going to happen today.”

Trace looks out the window, suddenly overcome with thought it seems. “It just doesn’t seem like he would have the balls to do it, Liz. I mean, I could see him doing it in private, but in front of all of our families, I just don’t know.” He scratches his head, pondering the outcomes. 

The metal picture itself is enough to make me want to vomit. I hurriedly run into the bathroom, throw cold water on my face in attempts to wake up from this nightmare.

Trace walks past the door, shaking his head in the process. “Liz,” he states, “you gotta shower, we’re leaving in a half hour. Your sister brought over an outfit to wear, I’ll bring it up and leave it on the bed.” 

I shut the bathroom door and look down at my phone that I left in there from the night before. I can already see the red message indicator flashing like crazy and I continue to feel my stomach turn to slush as I bring up the message screen. 

I’m so nervous, you have to wish me luck- J

Good fucking luck you moron. I hope you all the best when it comes to trampling on the fragile thing that beats inside my body. 

Liz, am I doing the right thing? I have to be, right?- J

I continue to scroll through the messages until my eyes catch sight of an old saved message.

Iwm fslovefsaoo youuuuu- J

The drunken text was months ago, during one of his and Lauren’s “breaks.” He and Trace had gone out that night and accomplished only one thing the whole night, getting absolutely hammered.

As I look back on the text and the ramifications after that when he came over to my house and hooked up with me, I can’t help but secretly smile at the way things had gone that night. 

He had come over drunk as all, complaining about how Tiny doesn’t know how to drive on the line, not in between. 

“Fuckin’ payin a blind ass fool, Liz.” He states as he trips into the family room and lazily falls onto a couch. 

I walk around, readjusting the pillows and my lack of pajamas. I’m simply covered by the huge FutureSex/LoveShow tour shirt. 

He looks up at me, giving me eyes that I haven’t seen in years. He lifts his hand up and yanks me down so that I’m sitting on top of his lap. “You know,” he states as he starts to place kisses on my collar bone, “I’ve never had better than you.”

I shake him off and regain my composure as I roll my eyes at him, “Sure, that’s why you asked her to move in with you,” I stammer. 

“Don’t mean fuckin’ shit when we ain’t sleepin’ in the same bed.” I turn to him with a shocked expression on my face as he continues, “that’s right, bitch don’t believe in it, thinks it ruins our sex life if we sleep together every night,” he fights off my hold and pulls my face to his.

His lips are like fire, his hands are like ice, the mixture together sends jolts throughout my body. I can taste the alcohol all over his mouth but he doesn’t seem to care, his tongue forces it’s way past my locked lips and I can’t help but give in. I’ve waited for years since the last time this has happened and I just cannot wait any longer. 

Realizing that I am no longer in my mother’s house, he says, “fuck it, I’ma fuck you silly.” And with that he pulls my shirt overtop my head, exposing my already perked breasts. His hands move to massage the mounds, feeling, squeezing and pinching so that I’m constantly moaning in pleasure. I can already feel his bulge on my thigh and immediately I know that this probably won’t last all that long. 

He does the unthinkable, though, and pushes me off of his lap, lifts me and places me on the warm carpet, his eyes continuing to take in my entire body. He gently begins to place kisses all over my stomach and breasts, making his trail down to the area that needs him most. I know by the feel against my panties that I’m already soaked for him but he gently pulls off the cotton fabric that lies against my area. I eagerly help him with the removal and shocks of pleasure come over me as he places his palm on top of my clit. 

“Justin,” I pant, “I need you.” 

“Im’a take care of you girl, don’t worry,” he slurs. He takes his time and I close my eyes, only to open them having them roll to the back of my head as he kisses my clit, torturing it with his mouth. 

“No, Justin, please.” I pant. He hurriedly takes his pants off and moves so that he’s placed right at my entrance. He surges in and immediately I feel waves of pleasure running through my body. It’s unlike anything I could ever imagine. Our bodies mesh together so well and every time he hits that spot it feels like lightening in a storm. I can’t think and I can’t stop screaming and moaning. I open my eyes to find him looking down at me with hungry eyes, he takes his hands from the ground and places them on my face, “Look me in the eyes, I know you like this.”

No, I fucking love this. I can feel the ball of nerves start to convulse and immediately thousands of pounds of pressure it feels like surge down around him, sucking him. He begins to pant and grunts loudly, feeling his own release. He looks down at me and begins to kiss me with such passion and lust, he gently pulls out but continues his attack on my mouth. 

It feels so right, yet so wrong but he tears us apart only for a moment to speak words that I’ve wanted to hear for so long, “I love you.” In that moment, he takes my mouth to his again as he picks me up and leads me upstairs. I get the feeling this night may never end. 

The cold reality is that it did end, with her calling his phone in the early morning to check and see how he was doing. He quickly gathered all of his things and left hurriedly to rush back to her, leaving me alone and helpless in this world all over again. 

I turn the shower on in the bathroom, attempting to forget that night or to at least push it to the back of my thoughts until the day is over. The hot water drops against my skin, still not altering the coldness around my heart. The tears begin to fall freely and I stand there, helpless because I know what is going to happen today, no matter how hard I fight to stop it. 

He’s going to propose to her, in my mother’s house, in front of all of my family and friends. He’s going to do it without remorse because he doesn’t understand how badly he’s hurting me. He’s going to do it because it wouldn’t matter if my heart breaks just as long as his stays in tact. He’s going to do it because I let him, because I love him. 

The silence is thick, so thick it can be cut with a knife. I sit in the passenger’s seat of Trace’s car, anticipating what’s about to happen in the next half hour. I look out the window to see dozens of happy people everywhere. There are children jumping up in down in front of their Christmas trees, excited about their new gifts. There’s an old couple walking down the street hand in hand, that special glimmer in their eyes. The sun shines down through the car window and I see my reflection in the mirror. My face is strained, my eyes red and puffy from crying all last night, I attempted to do something with my hair but the curls were too hard to tame and I honestly didn’t have the effort to do anything about it. 

Trace is still, only moving when he has to turn, his face is pale, angry, and hurt. He says nothing, but moves to put his arm on my shoulder every so often, letting me know that he’s still here for me. 

As we pull onto my old street, the scene is the same it’s been for the past twenty years. On the right hand side the Smith’s have their one oak tree decorated with multicolored lights, the Williams family has their reindeer and “Santa, stop here” sign in the front yard, and next is Momma’s house. The house tip toes between the Griswald’s and Rockefeller Center, it’s bushes all decorated with white lights, the pathway lit with light up stars and garland wrapping around the front porch. It’s always felt so warm and inviting to anyone this time of year, but as I get out of the car and touch the door, I feel nothing but cold.

I know I should be happy on my favorite holiday, but as I round the bend into the kitchen Lauren is sitting at the barstool while Justin helps Momma and Lynn cook dinner, I’m suddenly reminded of why I’m so miserable.

“Merry Christmas, sugar!” My mom states as I walk over to her and hug her. She leans into my ear and whispers, “I tried to tell him she wasn’t welcome in this house.”

I laugh at the gesture, unsure of what to do when Lynn comes up behind me and wraps me in a hug. Her eyes are filled with a pleading look, as though I haven’t told her something in a long time. I know she knows, Justin would never go this far without telling Lynn about it. Her face contorts into a look of pity that tells me she understands.

“Ow!” Trace screeches as my sister, Jenna, smacks him over the head. “What was that for?”

“That’s for being you,” she smiles and heads over to me, hugging me. “I missed you, this college thing sucks.” 

I nod, knowing that her leaving home was one of the hardest things she’s had to do in a while. The doorbell rings and Jenna drags me along to answer it. I find myself being bombarded with hugs and kisses from aunts and uncles and my Pap, who makes sure to be the last one in.

“How’s my cupcake?” He asks, pulling the hat off of his head and laying it with his jacket.

“Fine,” I shrug and move to hug him. 

“Did he hurt you? Cause if he did, I’ma beat his a-” he stops, realizing its a holiday and he hasn’t sworn on a holiday since I was born. We walk into the family room where everyone has gathered with gifts, ready to open everything.

We all wait for the go-ahead from Mom and as she comes in from the kitchen, she nods and it begins. I sit back, sipping on the hot cocoa that Jenna left on the table as everyone opens their gifts.

“Ugh! How did you find these?” Jenna enquires about her new Ugg boots, “I’ve been looking everywhere!” 

I laugh a little, “I bought them around Halloween... you know you can never get them after that.”

Everyone in the family continues to open their gifts and Justin walks over to me and places the little square box right in front of me. 

“What’s this?” I question. The box is tiny, about the size that one holding an engagement ring would be, but I know better than this.

“Just open it. It’s my gift to you and you aren’t allowed to return it,” he winks.

I open the box to find keys, marked with the three letters BMW on the front of the key fob. 

“I figured you had a car but when it snows like it does sometimes, you’ll be needing this.” He hands me a pamphlet with the BMW x5 over the front cover and although I’ve always liked the car, it doesn’t change the fact of what’s to come. I get up, hug him, mutter a thank you and sit back in my seat, waiting for the show to begin.

In my mind I can hear myself already breaking down, all of my internal systems shutting down and giving up. He pulls the box out of his pocket, in front of everyone and he gets down on one knee.

“Lauren, I know we haven’t been together all that long,” he starts, “But I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.”

I can feel my mind begin to close off the neural messages that tell me to react, that tell me to cry. I look around the room to see everyone’s expressions, particularly the smug look all over hers. 

“And I was wondering,” he continues, “If you would want to spend the rest of your life with me. Will you marry me?”

She smiles that smug smile again and screams, “Yes!” 

And like a broken drum, my heartbeat begins to falter. I can do nothing, I can’t move, my body is permanently frozen in this position on the couch. He takes her up in his arms and hugs her and kisses her. I witness Lynn put on the act of acting happy for them and Momma trying to be as cordial as possible. I see Trace moving towards me, attempting to make a bad joke. 

“I’m getting married!” She screams.

I get up, smiling, and walk out of the room, up to my old bedroom where I cover myself and just cry. I hear the congratulations around the room downstairs and before I know it I’ve drifted off into a sleep.

I wake up to dinner being put on the table and Lauren still talking about how she’s getting married, she turns to me in the empty dining room as my mother walks out.  

“You know, I thought he was going to get me the six carat, I guess I can settle for four, though. I get to be Mrs. Timberlake, so cool, right Lauren?” Her questions laced with sarcasm, as if she even cares about me.

And before I can even react, like a saving grace, Pap walks into the room “Lauren,” he states, “I think it best you leave.”

Shocked, she asks why she should do such a thing. Pap simply responds, “This is a Hall family Christmas, and you, my dear, are not a member of this family.” 

She storms to Justin, who is laughing with Lynn over something, and yells, “Come on, J. We’re leaving.”

“Why would we do something that stupid?” He asks. 

“Because apparently I’m not a member of this family,” she states.

“Well that’s just ridiculous,” he says, “right mom?”

Lynn is silent, not knowing what to say as Pap and Gram walk into the room together. “Right Mom?” Justin asks again, “Mom?”

“Son,” Pap states, “As I told Lauren, this has and always will be a Hall Family Christmas. We are more than happy to welcome friends and family into this home, but I will not put up with those who are phony or fake. It simply won’t happen.”

“What are you talking about?” Justin asks.

“She’s just fucking jealous that you proposed to me and not her,” Lauren quips. 

And like roaring thunder, Momma looks up at her, shocked, “Lauren, get out. I will not tolerate this in my house on Christmas.”

“Justin, let’s go!” Lauren states, “Who needs this anyway?”

They move to get their jackets and Trace pats Justin on the back, “Nice pick there, J. Have a Merry Christmas.”

What is it that holds us together in times of sorrow and desperation? I don’t want to sit around and wallow in self pity because I have a job to do, but this just hurts. I walk past my bedroom mirror and take in my pitiful, yet somehow put together self. There are bags under my eyes, but my outfit is like any other day. I’ve opted for my usual slacks, Jimmy Choo shoes and blazer for work as always. As I walk past the front table that holds my keys, I stare down at the box that sits the way it has since Christmas Day when I left it there. I refuse to drive the vehicle even if there is five inches of snow in Memphis because I would rather kill myself attempting to drive in a car than drive in his car. 

I safely make it through most of the snow and make it into work, as I come off of the elevator and step foot into the law firm, I know that everything that’s been going on in my life is left at the door and it’s back to business as usual. I may only be twenty-five years old, but I’ve worked hard for the job I have. I have no intentions of letting Justin or anyone else for that matter ruin my chance at partner in the next year. I round the front corner and head to my secretary’s desk.

“Any messages for me, Missy?” I smily softly to the younger girl, hoping that there’s nothing for me to do. 

“Liz, there are over half of a dozen missed calls from Justin, every one of them ending in ‘it’s urgent and imperative that she call me back.’ Your mom stopped by and left you a lunch and Trace said that if you needed anything to give him a call but he’d probably see you later. Mr. Brown left the newest case folder on your desk and he hoped that you could give it a look over before the lunch meeting.”

“Anything else,” I ask softly, not wanting to know any more about my personal life. 

“No that’s all, shall I keep intercepting your calls for you for the rest of the day, Liz?” Missy asks politely and I nod, knowing that there will be more to come.

I move towards my office as Mr. Brown calls out my name. 

“Liz, dear how are you this morning?” The older looking gentleman asks. He’s nearly fifty, his gray hair starting to peak out among the rest and as he looks up you can see the wear and tear in his eyes after all of these years of working as hard as he does. 

“Fine sir and how are you?” I ask back, grabbing the file off of my desk. 

“Been better, Liz. I’ve been going crazy over this case, trying to figure out whose best to fight it. This is a huge case, we’ve got to win. If we don’t it could mean bad things throughout the whole firm. I’m counting on you to do the best you possibly can with this.”

The case is a multi-million dollar lawsuit between a real estate development and a green peace act and I’d be fighting for the green peace act. My client wishes to keep the forest in its natural condition, the other has apparently laid claim to the land a long time ago that wishes to make it into a recording compound for a new record company. 

I realize the name and I know that neither one of these sides should have anything to do with the forest, a forest always owned by Justin’s family. The forest was always a place near and dear to my heart. We used to play there when we were kids, Trace, Justin, all of us. The times we spent there were some of the best times we’ve ever had. 

I’ll be defending several clients in the suit because it’s turning into a class action suit. Most are just wealthy locals that refuse to see the land go to waste. The names Decker and Smith are two of the frontmen, but the first name of my client list has been blacked out as has the defendants name.

“Mr. Brown, who is arguing in favor of the recording company?” 

He sighs and takes a seat at the sofa in my office, “That’s the thing, Liz. You’d be fighting against Justin Timberlake.”

I drop the papers down suddenly, realizing that he’s talking about Tennman Records. Justin for months has been saying that he’s been looking all around for the perfect place for a compound. Saying how it’s going to be the best recording compound ever, it might even top Johnny’s in Florida. I had no idea that he was laying claim on the one piece of land that meant something to the three of us in Memphis. 

“Mr. Brown, this is such a huge conflict of interest,” I state. “How am I even supposed to go about this?” 

“I have faith in you, Liz, the whole firm does, too. You’ll be the best as you always are, just be you. Speaking of which, the meeting at eleven is between both parties so you get an idea of what each is asking for. I’d look up on the files, see what you come up with, I know there’s got to be something I’m missing in all of it.”

He stands, straightening himself as he waves, leaving my office. I look down at the folder again as I grab my phone out of my purse, preparing to take notes on what I’m about to read. As I turn the device on for the first time in a week, I’m flooded with texts and voicemail from him all of which I ignore, knowing now why he’s calling me. 

I begin to read further into the document where I find that for the longest time, Justin and his family believed that the forest would always remain a natural habitat like it has been for many years. Only recently, however, have his views on the property changed. I note particular instances when the family has spoken out about the land, wondering why now everything has changed for him. 

Sighing at this, I make the last of my notes and head into the conference room early so that I mentally prepare myself for him and the effect he has on me. As I continue to reread my notes, I hear the laugh and suddenly every little piece of the puzzle has been put together to answer my questions.

Lauren is in a black dress, grey sweater with her signature Gucci heels. She clings onto him for dear life, afraid that at any point he could up and leave her if ever given the opportunity. His arm lays across her shoulder like it used to do with mine whenever we walked somewhere together. 

Mr. Brown walks in after them, motioning for them to sit alongside their attorney. 

“I’m David Brown, this is Elizabeth Hall,” Mr. Brown states towards the other attorney. 

“Pleased to meet you, I’m Nick Evans. This,” he motions towards my so called best friend who is nuzzling with his fiancee, “is Justin Timberlake and his girlfriend Lauren.”

“Excuse me,” the bitched quips, “he means fiancee.” She states, flashing her ring so that it reflects the light right onto my face. 

I cannot take it, I feel the blood boil inside of me and I do everything I possibly can to restrain myself from jumping over the table and beating the hell out of her. This is my place of work, my sanctuary of sorts, and she is here, ruining every part of my job that I love. I begin to formulate words in my mind, trying to think of the best way to start this meeting but the only ones that continue to reoccur are those of ‘golddigger,’ ‘bitch,’ ‘slut,’ but I know that’s no way to win over Evans and his clients. 

“Well,” Nick states, “Let’s get down to business. My clients are simply asking that their right to the land remain and they be free to do what they wish, whether that be leaving the forest as it is, or making something out of it.” Nick Evans is his late twenties, you can almost see the fear of the word ‘thirty’ in his mind, he’s a brunette with the most piercing blue eyes I’ve ever seen, covered only by the lenses he wears that seem to add to his intelligence. 

I counter back, however, knowing that regardless of who Nick is, he’s still arguing for something I cannot believe in or agree to. 

“First and foremost, Mr. Evans, this forest has been passed down throughout the family for hundreds of years. To throw that away and create a recording compound is not only environmentally detrimental but not profitable in the least. Most major recording companies will fund and determine where there artists are to record and if Mr. Timberlake has already been funded such money, it’s absolutely senseless and selfish for such a natural piece of Memphis’ history to be destroyed.” Mr. Brown nods in agreement but as I look across the table, I see her continuously roll her eyes at the conversation at hand as though she has an ultimate goal throughout all of this.

“Be that as it may, Miss Hall, but Mr. Timberlake and his soon to be wife hope to someday raise their family on such land, would you deprive them of one of their dreams?” Evans questions. 

Again, I see the smirk on her face and suddenly it all clicks, she’s out to prove her point and from the way my face feels fire red, she’s achieved that goal. 

I hear the door to the conference room open and then close again, “Sorry I’m late, bad traffic,” the familiar voice states. Trace has taken the seat next to me, dressed in a suit and tie, “Now, where were we?”

I sit back, shocked at what this has turned into. Justin’s eyes are wide with shock, Lauren continues to play with her ring around her finger, oblivious to the situation at hand, worried only about her own greed. I feel Trace pushing a paper in front of me where I see his name in the spot that was once blacked out. 

“What are you doing here?” Justin asks, “This has nothing to do with you.” 

“As a matter of fact,” he straightens himself in the chair, “It has a lot to do with me, I’m one of the clients arguing against such a selfish act. Li- Miss Hall will gladly provide you all with the names of people I’ve collected willing to fight against this.”

“The petition,” I start, “has over five thousand signatures. Most notably, the entire country music community has come on board with my clients.” 

“Mr. Evans,” I continue, “I hope that you understand that only those immediately affected by such a matter as this case be present in court. Mainly those being immediate family as well as my clients. I wouldn’t want this to turn into a circus of sorts.”

He nods, agreeing with me, “I do believe that to be true, Miss Hall. Miss Winter?” He questions to Lauren, “You’ll be okay with this of course?”

“The fuck I will,” she quips, “This bitch doesn’t want me there because she doesn’t want to see my future sealed with that forest. She’s just jealous of all of this.”

“Mr. Evans, as I’m sure you understand, I will not tolerate such defamatory language to myself or my clients and I believe that such language, though suitable for high school students, will not be accepted or appreciated by the judge.”

Evans and Justin attempt to calm Lauren down as Justin continues to shake his head, finally speaking, “This is bullshit! We’re leaving, I’ll see you in court.” 

Trace looks up, shifting from his original position and without hesitation nor any ounce of shock states, “I look forward to it. Make sure you bring tag-a-long over there, too.” 

Lauren looks at Trace as the battle between the best friends has just begun, “Justin,” she states, “He’s not worth it.” 

I sit at my desk after the meeting, waiting for Trace to speak up and say something. The clicking of my pen as I anxiously await for something is deafening in the silence. Trace looks up every so often, unsure of what to say or where to begin. He stands up, beginning to pace the room and finally shouts, scaring the hell out of me.

“That fucking bitch! Who the fuck does she think she is? I’m by his side for all my fucking life and I’m suddenly not ‘worth it.’ That gold-digging tramp, I swear there’s something behind all of this, something she’s not telling any one of us, not even Justin. I bet you she was secretly in a psych ward or something, Liz.” He continues to move back and forth as I watch him continuously, unsure of how to react to the situation.

“She’s ruined everything, next is Lynn, Justin’s just way too blind to see it, let alone think that it would ever happen. When have you ever known him to ignore both me and you? It’s never happened before.” I shake my head at the thought, knowing that this could very well be the end between my best friend and I. 

Trace digs his phone out of his pocket, fumbling through the numbers he hits the send key in hopes that the other line will pick up. “Come on, answe- Hey, Tiny, it’s Trace. Yeah, are you with him? Good, okay. I need a favor.”

I’m puzzled at what exactly Tiny could do about the whole situation considering he’s Justin’s bodyguard and his number one priority has and always will be Justin. 

“I know you hate her just as much as we do, that’s why I need you to help me with this. You’re really the only one who has the connections and is qualified to do this.” 

He pulls his hair, hoping that his plan will somehow work, “Listen, Tiny, I know it’s complicated... yeah, I need you to do re-con work on her, find something, I know there’s something. It’s obviously got to be before her days around Liz... Just let me know.”

Trace hangs up the phone and sits back down in the chair, “Well,” he looks up, “I’m fucking hungry. Let’s go eat.” 

I shudder at the thought of food but my stomach protests, rumbling throughout the room and Trace does nothing but laugh. We walk out of the office together and I tell Missy that if anything comes up to just let me know, she smiles softly, already knowing what has gone on today. 

We wait for the elevator in silence and my face still sulks like my mood. Trace places his arm over my shoulder, “You know, if you weren’t wearing fucking heels I might actually look taller than you.” 

I laugh at the failed attempt at the joke, “We just aren’t meant for each other. Lauren’s short, though, you could try with her.” 

“What the fuck I wanna marry some broke ass stupid ho for? Liz-bo, sometimes you scare me.” 

I continue to laugh at the gesture, unsure of what to say back to it. Knowing that without Trace, I would be completely lost in this situation. We make our way to the car as Trace stops, pointing to the small diner right across the street. 

“Mmm, we haven’t been there in ages. I could really go for a burger, none of that little shit that you pay a hundred dollars for. What do ya think?”

I nod, knowing that Curtis’s diner is probably the only thing that I’d be wiling to eat right now beyond cereal. The scent as we walk through the doors is absolutely overwhelming. It brings back so many memories that we had as kids here. As we take a seat in the corner booth that used to be our “spot,” I can’t help but think back many years ago.

“And if I’m not married by twenty eight, I’m gonna force you to marry me,” he states, pointing at me as he gulps his milkshake. 

“Is that so?” I counter back, “What if I’m ugly and fat by then, like that woman over there.” I point to the older woman sitting across from us, noting her appearance and the noticeable weight gain.

“I don’t care about that stupid stuff. Fifteen years from now, I wanna be married, with kids and I wanna have lots and lots of money.” He leans into my side, resting his blonde curls on my shoulder. 

“And what if you meet somebody? Some girl that’s prettier than me and smarter, too. Then what? Who do I marry?” 

“We’ll always be best friends, Lizzy. But if I do meet a pretty girl, I’m just being stupid, you’re always first in my heart,” and he points to his chest, making a heart with his hands, “...but you could marry Trace.”

I crack up at the memory as it warms my heart and Trace stares at me blankly, not having a clue of what I’m thinking about. The teenage waitress walks over to the table, smiling as she asks what we would like and I interrupt Trace in the middle of it.

“We’ll take two number sevens, a number five, onion rings, french fries and mozzarella sticks,” she nods and I stop her again before she leaves the table, “Oh! And two shirley temples.”

“How did you remember that?” Trace asks.

“Because I haven’t changed and neither have you. We’re still the same people, we still like the same things, we haven’t changed.” 

He smiles as he moves to sit Indian style on the booth as he used to. I place one leg under my other in the same position it always was before. “You’re right you know, it’s just sad and fucking stupid that the other one has changed.”

“Can we not talk about him anymore tonight? I don’t want to mix business with pleasure anymore. Talking about him just ruins my night.” The fried food is placed in front of us and I immediately dig in, hoping that it tastes the same as always.

The door to the diner rings and I look up, surprised at whose walking in the door.

“Lynn, what are you doing here?” I ask while hugging the older lady. She takes a seat next to me, picking up a fry as I motion to the waitress to bring more appetizers and drinks. 

Lynn laughs, “You didn’t think I was going to let you two be the only ones to bring that evil girl down, did you? When Trace told me what happened today I knew just where to find you and I brought backup.”

“Man, I told you, just get me some more answers,” the large bodyguard walks through the door as well and Tiny takes a seat next to Trace, nearly squeezing the little man to death. 

Lynn looks up, rolling her eyes, “He refused to tell me what was going on until we met up with you guys.”

Tiny shakes his head, “Y’all ain’t gonna believe what I found out about this chick. It’s straight up fucking twisted.” 

“You have to tell us, Tiny!” I scream at the huge man, hoping to somehow manage to pull the information out of him.

He chews another bite of food in his mouth, “Guys this is so good,” he states.

“Why won’t you tell us, then?” I plead, wanting to know what is going on, I knew there had to be something about Lauren, something not even she could hide. The thoughts inside me run wild, she’s been in prison, she’s dealt drugs, something, there just has to be something.

“I was talkin’ about the sandwich.” He smiles, knowing he’s pushing all the wrong buttons, “I”m sorry Liz. Okay, so I was talkin’ to my boy LeRoy whose in charge of all this private investigation stuff. I simply asked the man if there was anything he could dig up on this chick, nothing apparently. So then I went to my other boy Sean, and he found something big.”

“Jesus, Tiny, just tell us already!” Trace exclaims. “I need to know about this girl!”

Tiny waves his hand in front of Trace, signaling him to be quiet. The suspense in and of itself is killing me inside, I don’t know what to do anymore about it.

“She’s got a baby.” Tiny states. Trace spits out his milkshake, choking in the process, my face is pale white painted with shock. “Well, not a baby, he’s about five now.”

“How? When?” Trace stutters out, “Does J know?” 

“Hell no, man. He’s got no idea. Matter of fact, the only people that know are her parents and the hospital where she had it. From what I’ve found, she’s planning on telling Justin after they get married, which brings me to another point. She wants to rush the wedding as fast as possible, she’s hoping they can elope within the next two months.”

“Wait, so what does this mean for Justin?” Trace questions and I immediately know the answer.

“She’ll have his money. Technically, she’ll have half plus whatever happens if he pays child support should they ever split but if they get married in California it’s gonna be 50/50 and he’s too faithful-”

“To ever sign a pre-nup,” Lynn interjects. 

Tiny’s phone rings to cut in to our investigation of Lauren, “Hey boss. Yeah, what’s up?” You can hear mumblings on the other line as he continues to eat his food, “What’chu mean you didn’t know Liz was on the case? Boss, that’s crazy, we can’t do that.”

My eyes lift up from my plate to look over to tiny with his face resting in his hands, “Yeah, I know.” 

He hangs up the phone, throwing it on the table, “Fuck,” he mumbles. 

“What Tiny? What’s he want to do now? What is she putting him up to next?” 

“He wants to have your firm paid off so that you’re permanently off the case, he says you shouldn’t be able to handle this situation because it’s a conflict of interest. You have to know that she put him up to it,” he states.

“There’s no way my firm will ever allow that to happen. Not in a million years. I have to win this case, it’s the only thing that’s going to keep everyone’s job,” I say.

“He’s willing to give them millions for it, he ‘says’ that he can’t stand to be in the same room as you as long as this continues to go on.”

I become uneasy and I pull my cellphone out of my pocket, dialing the number, not even bothering with speed dial. I’m livid, I can feel my blood boiling my skin, running through me like crazy. 

“You’ve got a lot of nerve calling this phone, you bitch,” Lauren quips into the speaker, “he’s mine, always has been, always will be, and I can’t wait til you have nothing and I have it all.”

I hand the device over to Lynn, “Excuse me, Lauren, this is Lynn Harless, you know, Justin’s mother. Now I don’t know who you’re talking about or to in that tone but Liz was nice enough to lend me her phone to call my son.”

“Oh, hi Mrs. Harless! How are you?” The voice and tone immediately changing to suit who she’s talking to.

“Cut the bullshit, can you put my son on please?”

“Sure, let me grab him!” The phone is handed back to me in that instant and the voice that has always calmed me now overcomes me with a pain.

“Momma, what’s up?” He says calmly into the phone.

“Sorry, it’s me.” I say, hoping for some sort of mutual greeting or appreciation.

“Oh, what did you need?” He asks with a strong hint of irritation in his voice.

“I need to talk to you, immediately. If it’s the last thing I do, we have to have this conversation.” I say, knowing that if it ever came down to this, there might still be hope that he’d hear me out.

“When and where?” He asks.

“My house, a half hour,” I respond.

“Okay, ‘Momma,’ I’ll be right over.”

“Thank you.”

I put the phone down and Trace looks up at me quizzically. “We can’t just hide this from him for weeks and months, it won’t work that way. He’ll deal with it best if he knows before something major happens and if he hates me even more in the process then that’s something I’m going to have to live with. I might not like it, but at least I’ll know deep down that I tried and at this point, that’s all I can do.”

I grab my jacket from the booth, giving Lynn and Tiny a hug and I walk out the front door with Trace tailing me. 

“Do you think you’re doing the right thing? I mean, what if he doesn’t care? Where do we go from there?”

“He’s our best friend, Trace, we can’t keep hiding this from him, he wouldn’t do that to us.”

“He’ll just hurt you in the end, Liz, that’s what I’m worried about. You don’t know how much it fuckin’ sucks to have to want to kill your one best friend because he hurt your other best friend.”

I pull him into a hug, knowing that the comfort of his arms will never match that of Justin’s. At this point, though, it’s better than being alone. I walk over to my car, putting the key in the ignition. I sigh, look at myself and it’s then that I know that this is the last chance I have to prove to Justin what’s best for him, I know that this is the last chance for me to ever see him again without her around and I know that this is the last chance for our relationship to be what it needs to be. I put the car in drive, hoping that I’m ready for what’s to come. 

I sit on my couch waiting for him, I can hear the car door outside and the movement of the flower pot outside, so I know he’s going to just let himself in. The door creaks and I catch a peak of his face. His old, battered Tennessee hat adorns his head, his Nikes on his feat, hidden by his baggy sweatpants. He slides his jacket off, leaving his sweatshirt on. He leaves the jacket on the table and drops the keys in the bowl. 

If I didn’t already know that I had every intention of spending the rest of my life with him, that sealed the deal. He’s so comfortable here, like it’s his home and in reality, it should be. 

He walks into the family room, looking around, avoiding eye contact with me. “So, uh,” he puts his hands on his hat, “what did you need?”

I pat the spot next to me on the couch and he sits down next to me, the heat radiating off his body. He puts his feet up on the couch, mirroring my position. 

“I know you probably have no intentions of talking to me, or whatever it is that she doesn’t want you doing, but I have something to say. You can hate me after this if you want, but I’m doing this because I love you.” I say, hoping that the words sink in the right way.

“Liz, do we have to go through this? I’m marrying her, you waited too long.” He crosses his arms, moving further to the edge of the couch. 

“Damnit, Justin, I hate this. She has a child! She’s just in it for your money,” I spat. 

His blue eyes look up to me, shocked in the process. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything. He begins to shake his head, “You’re lying.” 

“Justin, have I ever lied to you?” I ask. “I wouldn’t be telling you this if I didn’t think it was 100% true or if I didn’t think you needed to know. She loves you for your money. Listen,” I pull the phone out of my pocket, replaying the recorded conversation I had with her earlier.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve calling this phone, you bitch. He’s mine, always has been, always will be, and I can’t wait til you have nothing and I have it all.”

He grabs the phone and continues to replay it, over and over again, until its the last thing either one of us wants to hear. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? You could have told me a long time ago, I wouldn’t have gone searching for her. You did this, you’re being selfish Liz, you caused all of this.” He states.

I’m furious at this, not knowing how he could possibly blame me for any of this, “What the hell are you talking about, Justin? What, that I didn’t sit you down and tell you you’re fiancee was a trifling ho that’s only out for your money? I’m sorry, I thought it was futile because you’re too in love with her. I’m sorry that I even bothered to care, sorry that I even took the time to bring you over here because you obviously are just going to go back to her and leave me here, alone,” I begin to sob uncontrollably, clutching my legs for support, “What you think I worry about my own happiness before yours? Come on, be fucking real.”

He puts his head in his hands, “Well, this makes things fucking complicated.”

“Complicated? Are you serious, Justin? You fucking come over one night, drunk, tell me you love me and then leave me the next morning to go back to her. Tell me, what’s she got that I don’t have? Is it the sex? Because I’m pretty sure I could have her beat there. It can’t be the fact that she loves you because I love you so much it fucking hurts,” he pulls me into him and I continue to sob but the comfort of his arms around me, just holding me is overwhelming.

“Liz, calm down, seriously, calm down. You don’t mean it, you really don’t. You don’t love me, you never have,” he says. 

I look up to him, “Really? Then the past twenty-five years of my life have been totally wasted on you. Every phone call, every hug, every tear, it’s all meaningless bullshit. You’re right, Justin, how stupid of me? How could I possibly fall in love with somebody who didn’t love me back? Maybe because he spent every waking moment with me, making me realize how good of a life we could have. But no, I don’t love you.” 

I get up off the couch, moving to the kitchen to find a bottle and glass of something strong. I have never turned to alcohol in difficult situations, but to me, the night calls for it. He follows me, right on my heels the whole time, pulling his phone out, “Lauren, yeah something came up at Mom’s, I won’t be making it home tonight.”

I chuckle at this. “If you fucking think that you’re staying here the night to leave me in the morning, you’re out of your fucking mind. You’re either in or your out, and if you walk out that door tonight, you’ll be out of my life forever, I won’t even bat an eyelash. I can’t deal with this anymore, Justin. I can’t take the pain or the anguish that you put me through every day and night, I just can’t do it.”

He comes over to me, placing his hands on either side of my body and just stands there for a moment, looking me in the eyes. “What if I told you that she never meant anything? That in all of this, she was just the next best thing that I could find to you, would that make this all okay?”

“You’re lying,” I state, fighting his gaze.

He moves my face back to his, “No I’m not, what if I told you this was all a part of my grand scheme because someday I believed you’d come back to me.”

“So you’re grand scheme calls for heartache and destroying my life while you’re still happy as can be with the girl of your dreams? I don’t quite understand.”

“I can’t fight this,” he points between us, “anymore. I’ve tried, diligently, to move you into the best friends category, but I’ve known for a long time, and that night just proved it to me. Me marrying her was just an attempt to get something that I could never have with anyone but you, I know that now.”

“You bought her a ring,” I state, his face inching closer to mine every second.

“She’ll find another celebrity, no big deal.” His hands move to my face, pulling me into him. He stops, looking at me again and I have to blink multiple times to make sure this is real. His lips hover over mine and I can instantly feel the sparks throughout my body. 

He opens his eyes again, “It’s crazy how much I love you.” He moves in, kissing me and instantly I feel okay. I feel like a whirlwind has just come over me, a silent motion telling me that every thing’s gonna be okay. He’s here, kissing me... the world just seems too good to be true. He lifts me up on the counter top, putting his hands in my hair, pulling me closer to him. It all just feels so damn good. 

He stops for a moment, feeling through his pockets for his cellphone and I can hear the vibration echo throughout the whole house. He looks at the screen and flashes it in front of my face, exposing the name. I take it out of his hands, throwing it across the kitchen, watching it slam into the wall, falling to pieces. He smiles that crooked smile that makes me weak.

“I promise it’s over,” he says. 

“I sure hope so,” I say back, pulling him close to me again. He looks up at me for a moment, his eyes slightly hidden by his hat, that gleam showing through everything. 

“I just can’t get over this, you gotta give me a minute” and he smiles again, “I love you, Liz. I fucking love you.” 

I smile, feeling the tears well up in my eyes again, “I love you too, J. I love you, too.”

And I hold onto the moment, etching it in my brain, knowing that when the morning comes these things may not be the same. 

It’s late, this much I know is true. The bed is still occupied by two bodies, one lifeless as can be, and the other whose heart beats rapidly unable to stop the thoughts running through my head. The blankets are spread across his frame, only covering the lower half of his body. His body lifts up and down with each small breath he takes, so calm, so warm and so at home. To me, it’s overwhelming because I cannot for one minute grasp what has gone on in the past twelve hours. 

I continue to look out the window, the snow still falling down. I begin to hear a noise that doesn’t seem to belong in this perfect little sanctuary of ours and he begins to rustle the covers, attempting to move. I quickly shut my eyes, not knowing what’s going and not wanting him to know that I’ve been awake all this time. I peak through my eyelids, noticing his frame picking up his pager, looking over the past calls and messages, he picks up the home phone, dialing the numbers, getting up and walking away from his spot on the bed. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles quietly, and I can hear him moving to get his clothes from the floor. Suddenly, my heart begins to beat faster and I begin to worry that the sound is resonating throughout the house. I reach out to his spot on the bed to confirm that it is now empty. I open my eyes, stretching my body, making my presence known to him. 

He walks over to my side of the bed, sitting down as he puts his shoes and socks on. He leans in, nuzzling his nose to mine, “God, I never wanna leave this place.”

I sigh, “Then don’t, ever.” 

He finishes slipping on his shoes, “We’re gonna be okay, okay? I’m going to make this all work out.” He runs his hair through his short curls, “We’re going to make it through this, Liz.” 

“Don’t make me empty promises, Justin, until you know for sure that everything here is going to work out,” I state, feeling the pain in my heart as I look to the clock knowing I’m not going to wake up with him in the morning. 

He looks around, and then moves his face closer to mine, “Trust me, after what’s happened here, tonight, you won’t be able to get rid of me.” 

He moves his lips overtop of mine, hovering ever so slightly and he moves closer, finally making contact. The shock runs throughout my body and I know that if this is what kissing him is always going to be like, I’ll be the happiest woman on the planet. I moan as he pushes me further back on the bed, “Justin, please stay.”

He continues to place kisses over my collarbone and all over my face, “You know I’ve got to go if there’s ever a chance for us.”

I pull him close to me, his strong arms encircling my frame, and I never want him to leave. I never want there to be a moment of time that he’s gone for more than a day, I can’t bear the pain knowing he’s not always going to be with me. 

He gives me one final kiss, “Once I find a new phone, I’ll call you in the morning. And I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, or tonight at the New Year’s Eve party.”

“Promise me,” I state, moving to his lips again.

“Liz, you’re mine, I’m yours. I’ll be gone for a short moment of time, but we’ll be ringing in the New Year together, I can guarantee you that.” He kisses me once more, “I love you.” 

With that, I can hear him as he walks down the stairs, only to walk back up again, he leans against the doorframe with the keys in his hand, “Just so you know,” he states, “I’m taking a key.” 

“Justin Timberlake, if you don’t leave my house in five minutes, you never will and I will not feel sorry for the dreadful things I may do to you.” I pull the covers over my head, only to feel him pull them down, whispering gently in my ear.

“Girl, these past few hours were nothing. Give it time, I’m going to hit that,” and he palms the most sensitive part of my body, “so hard, that you won’t walk for days.”

I growl, “I fucking hate it when you do that.” I move the covers off of my body, the only thing hiding my frame being an old N’sync tour t-shirt that he gave to me. 

“Where are you going?” He asks, moving with me. 

“Going to shower,” I push him out of the bedroom, “You have got to leave now if you’re going to leave.”

“Okay, I’m going, I’m going.” And he walks down the stairs and out the door and I can hear his car flooring down the road. 

His face is imprinted in my mind as I take a long, hot shower. I move to get a towel after having enough of the water, looking at the clock I notice it’s become a reasonable six in the morning. If I know my mother well, she’s already up, reading her morning paper, with coffee in her hand. I know the Starbucks down a couple of streets is already open and I move to start getting ready. 

I pull the sweatpants on my body, moving to get a heavy jacket, completely satisfied with the messy bun that adorns my head. I walk down the stairs, filtering through all of the keys, finding the BMW keys in the bottom of the bowl. I start the car, walking out the door and I notice men with cameras in front of the house. 

“Elizabeth! Are you and Justin dating?” One asks, another moving forward his voice louder.

“Elizabeth! How does it feel to ruin Justin’s relationship with Lauren Winter?” 

I move to the car, where they have gathered, “Guys, I hope you all understand that Justin and I have been friends for a very long time. You’re looking for a story that simply is not there.”

I get in the car, moving down the driveway and out onto the street, I pick up the phone to dial his number, hanging up mid way through rings, knowing he hasn’t gotten a phone yet. I leave my iPhone sitting in the cup holder, not expecting anyone to call this early in the morning. I pull the car into the Starbucks, finding a space near the entrance. I pull my scarf tighter around my kneck, not ready to embrace the cold. As I move through the entrance doors, I head to the barista ordering my drink.

I hand her my gift card, waiting for her to process the receipt. “Do you think you’re really that good?”

I turn around to find Lauren standing behind me, all ready for the day, dressed in her William Rast jeans and bomber jacket with scarf. “Excuse me, I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Gonna take the day off, Liz? Had a rough night?” Her condescending tone eats through my good mood this morning. 

“Lauren, not that it’s any of your business, because it’s not, but for the record, yes I had a good night.” I move to get my drink from the counter, not knowing what will really push her buttons, I keep my mouth shut. 

She moves closer to me, holding her finger out to the barista to wait for her drink order. “One night,” she states, “doesn’t compare to a lifetime.” And she flashes her ring in front of my face, “You’ll never change that, Liz. But thank you for trying.”

I move out the door, unlocking the car door but something in Lauren’s car stops me. The familiar hat is ducked down in the front car seat, ever so slightly shining out the window. I move over to the Mercedes, tapping on the window and he looks up, shame in his eyes.

He rolls down the window, “Listen, I can explain.” 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I state. I have the strong desire to key the hundred thousand dollar car, but I realize that my maturity prevents me from doing such a thing. I move away from the window and the car door opens, he steps out following me to my car. 

He moves to touch me and I can’t help but slap his hand away, “Get the fuck away from me, Justin.” 

“Please, Liz. You’ve gotta fucking listen.” He states. 

I open the car door, “What could’ve fucking changed in a matter of hours, Justin? Are you fucking bipolar?”

He holds on the door, not letting me close it and allow my emotions to flow over in private, “A pregnancy test. That’s what changed.” The tears well up in my eyes, unable to control the tears from spilling over.

“You really are a fucking sorry excuse for a man,” I state, “And if the bitch is money hungry, just throw her a few million and let us be happy. But you won’t do that, will you? No, you let some golddigger continue to use all of your money and be successful at one thing, having kids to seal the deal. It’s probably not even yours.” 

He shakes his head, unable to speak, so I break the silence, “I hate you,” I stammer, “I wish I could take this all back.”

“You don’t mean it, Liz. Just give me some time.”

“No, I’m done wasting my time on somebody preoccupied with a thief. I fucking built my life around you. The puzzle pieces are meant to fit together, Justin, and you won’t fucking let it happen. I refuse to be a part of this circus anymore. Have a happy fucking new year, Justin.” 

I slam the car door shut, flooring the engine out of the parking lot, the tears flowing down my face. I somehow knew none of this would last very long. 

He sits across the big conference table from me. His eyes plead with me to just understand the conflicts inside is own head. My own heart aches inside from the pain that overtakes me every time she puts her hand on top of his. The overwhelming urge to lunge at her from across the table eats at me every moment that the clock ticks. I hate the predicament that she’s put all of us in, because I was happy with him, I wasn’t settling, and with her in the picture, I have to settle for nothing and it kills me slowly every moment. 

The only person happy in the room is Lauren, which isn’t different from most other days. Justin’s miserable, I’m heartbroken, Trace is mad as hell and even though he won’t get involved in personal affairs, Nick Evans knows deep down what’s going on in this conference room. The desperation oozes out of Lauren’s mouth with every word she speaks and my pen slowly cracks every time I smack it against the table. 

“We’re pregnant, so we definitely want the land,” she states. At this point, I’ve had about enough and I know deep down that something about this situation isn’t right, it just doesn’t add up. 

“Forgive me for being intrusive Mr. Evans, but don’t you think a paternity test is in order to determine whose child it actually is?” Nick’s face drops along with Lauren’s in protest. 

“Frankly, Miss Hall, I highly doubt that has anything to do with my clients’ decision to pursue the land. What would such a test prove anyways?”

My eyes match with Justin’s for a moment, and I beg deep down for him to understand what I’m trying to get at here. There’s a distinct chance that Lauren could be pregnant with a child that isn’t his. I know this, so does he, but the question is if he’s man enough to ask. 

“Frankly, Mr. Evans, with Miss Winter already having a child, I believe such an effort is a necessary action and precaution and it’s in the best interest of our clients.” Her face falls, and immediately her eyes bore through me, as if me knowing her secret makes this all more difficult for her.

“That’s none of her fucking business,” she seethes, she grabs Justin’s hand but he removes it from her lap, unable to deal with the situation.

“I’m sorry, J. I was waiting for the right time to tell you, but she had to be her normal fucking self and get into our business.” She turns to me, “You have no right to deal with this, you’re fucking digging for shit because you don’t want him with me. Fucking sideline whore.” 

Justin plays into the whole situation, acting shocked at the time, “Well, Lauren, don’t you think a paternity test is fitting, considering you failed to tell me you already have a child.”

“J, I’m sorry! I was waiting for the right moment, it just wasn’t right now,” She pleads with him. 

“Get the fucking test, Lauren.”

“Justin,” Nick interrupts seeing the hurt in Lauren’s face and a little bit of defeat, “That’s absolutely preposterous and unnecessary to do such a thing.” 

“Nick, am I paying you?” Justin questions, his face contorting, glaring at Nick.

“Yes, of course, sir.” Nick says, defeated.

“Then shut the fuck up.” 

Lauren stands from the chair, ready to walk out of the room, “Justin, I really don’t want to do it. I mean, we know it’s yours, of course it is, whose else could it be? It’s obviously yours.”

Trace moves around his chair, fumbling with the papers in front of him, mumbling, “Mother fucking tramp, bet you it’s not even hers.” 

I want nothing more then to end the meeting, not being able to stand looking at her face anymore. “I believe that’s all for today, Nick. Is there anything else we need to cover?” I question, Nick shakes his head and the meeting is adjourned. 

Trace looks up to me and we hang around in the room, waiting for everyone to filter out of the room. Trace sits up on the table, feet on the chair. He shakes his head as he replays the past couple of days over in his mind. 

“Liz, you fucking rock. No joke, that was the best shit I’ve ever seen. Homegirl was straight shocked. She had no fucking clue what to do...” he looks up at me noticing the pain over my face, “Liz, you know it’s not his, I know it’s not his,” he states, “because if it were, he wouldn’t doubt it at all. He’d never, ever, ask for a paternity test. If there’s even a shadow of doubt, he’s going to ask for one, which tells me that it can’t be his, it just can’t be.” 

I look up at him as I arrange the papers into the folder, “But what if it is, Trace? Even if the first kid isn’t his, if this one is then he’ll never leave her. And you know she’ll never leave him and where does that leave all of us? It leaves you without a best friend and me without the love of my life.”

Trace plays the scenarios over in his head again,“Something about Nick Evans is involved in this picture, too, Liz. I get a weird feeling about all of it. Somehow, someway, he plays into this mess too.” 

“Trace, you’re reading too much into it. What if Justin fucked her, and now they’re going to have a kid,” the tears start flowing from my eyes.

I hear the conference door open and Trace looks up at the figure standing in the doorway, “Dude, aren’t you afraid of the bitch coming to find you? You know you’re on enemy territory.”

Justin glances at me quickly, running his hand through his curls. “What the fucks it matter? She forgot to tell me about a child, I think I’m allowed to do whatever the fuck I please.”

He moves to stand next to me, his warmth overcoming my body as he puts his arms around me, “It’s not mine... it can’t be. The nights just don’t add up. She’s apparently sixteen weeks pregnant, and sixteen weeks would be around four months and four months ago, according to her around the 15th of September...” he rambles and my mind travels back to that night as he continues to talk about the incident. “if anyone were to be pregnant with my child,”

“It would be me,” I interrupt, the tears still flowing and my mind is flooded with memories from that night. Every move, every word, it all seems like so long ago, like a distant memory that I’ll never get back. I completely disregard it, not wanting to get my hopes up in the least. 

I move out of his grasp, trying not to become too involved, I’m angry and hurt, “Justin this is fucking complicated! Don’t you get it? If it’s yours you’re going to stay with her.  And even if it’s not, you, like Trace, are reading too much into this. What if it is yours? I will not get my hopes up for something that may or may not be true. I’m only betting on the reality of life now, not the fantasy.”

He turns to look at me, his face reflecting the hurt that radiates throughout his body, “Liz, this isn’t fucking fair. Stop and give me some time to figure all of this shit out. If it’s not mine, then she and I are over, we’re fucking finished. I love you, you know this, you’re my best friend and possibly more. But you can’t fucking wait for me to figure this out.”

Trace gets up, knowing that the conversation is becoming a private one and grabs his coat off of the chair, “If you need me,” he says while leaning in to give me a hug, “You know exactly where to find me.”

He moves to shake Justin’s hand and tells him he’ll talk to him later and again I’m left in a room with the man responsible for breaking my heart to pieces. He looks up to me, his blue eyes pleading once again.

“You remember that night, I know you do. Although I was piss drunk, I remember most of it, too. We were perfect together, every second of it was perfection. So, no, I don’t think it’s mine, not at all... but I want to wait for the test to confirm my suspicions.” He sits on the table and pulls me in between his legs and I move to look around his shoulder, not wanting to make eye contact. The walls are all covered by curtains, the door is shut and I feel like once again I have nowhere else to turn. 

He moves my face to make eye contact with him, “If you give me time, this will be okay. We’ll be okay.”

“I can’t keep on giving you time, Justin. I keep giving and giving and every time I do that bitch finds a way to bring you back and you do, every fucking time. And it kills me, it hurts me more than you know. I can’t keep being walked on and being used for sex, I can’t do it.”

He shakes his head, his eyes piercing through me, “You know I’m not using you for sex. You know that has nothing to do with it. Making love? Yes. Sex? No. You know that every time I see you that it kills me inside to know it’s not your hand I’m holding, it’s not you that’s pregnant with my child. It kills me every moment of everyday. But you don’t know, because I was so stupid that I believed that you purposefully put her and I together a long time ago because you didn’t want to be a part of this.”

“Didn’t want to be a part of what, Justin? What didn’t I want to be a part of?” I’m confused at this statement, unable to understand what he is saying. 

“You know, the celebrity aspect of it. You hate the red carpet, you can’t stand the fans. She eats it up, she’s a paparazzi’s dream because she makes a fucking show out of everything.”

I shake my head, “You know that I don’t believe in the external aspect of your fame, you’ve always known that. I hate the fact that people make you out to be something or somebody that you’re not. To me, you’re just my Justin, my best friend. To me, you don’t have any money, you aren’t a celebrity and that’s me being me, not somebody who just wants your money.”

He pulls me closer to his face, “So where do we go from here?” 

I move backwards, not wanting to be tempted by something that isn’t mine, “I go back to my office, and you take Lauren for a paternity test.”

He grabs my hand as I try and walk away, “We’re going to be okay, Liz. I promise you.”

I shake my head, picking up the folder on the table, “Stop promising me the world and then giving me hell. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, then it’s just not meant to be.”

I sit on the warm carpet of my house, the fireplace on in the background, the tree still up because I refuse to take down the beautiful thing. My mind constantly tells me to look at my phone, check my calls or text messages but I have to tell it to shut-up because I know that if I look at it, my life’s fate is decided.

So here I sit, glass of wine in hand, Martina McBride playing in the background, contemplating the decisions in my life. It’s a new year, new life, and I can’t continue to force myself to play a part that I just can’t. I’m either in Justin’s life completely or out of it for good. I flip the phone over, but refuse to hit the button that will tell me what’s about to happen in my life. He called me before he took her to get it done and he said they’d know within a couple of hours. 

A part of me wants to forget the phone and the whole situation, just flip it back over, forget that part of my life and focus on my career. I could have the world with it, I could make partner in the firm, I could possibly start my own firm after a while. I wouldn’t have to take a backseat to the fame because I wouldn’t have Justin in my life anymore. My heart aches at the thought, knowing that without him, my life wouldn’t ever be the same. Every laugh, every smile, every tear, it would all be gone in a long lost memory to her and her selfish ways.

I hear a faint sound coming from the hallway and the familiar sound of keys dropping in the bowl. My stomach gets the repeated butterflies that come around every time he’s near me. He slowly walks in to the living room, not saying anything, his face blank. He comes and sits right next to me on the floor, his back up against the couch and he wraps his arm around me. 

I look up at him cautiously, afraid that if I do he might tell me something I don’t want to hear. 

“If you checked your phone you’d know what’s going on by now,” he states calmly. “But Liz never checks her phone, no, why would she do that,” the sarcasm oozing out of his voice. 

He picks up the phone on the floor, turns it over, hitting the button that illuminates the touch pad. Ten missed calls, fifteen texts, and two voicemail. He hands it to me, after accessing the voicemail that is apparently the most important.

“You’ll want to listen to this before you say anything to me,” I turn the phone on speaker, holding his hand as I do. 

Hey you, I just thought I’d call you and let you know, again, that it’s... not mine. Yup, I said it, not mine. I’ll be at your house in ten minutes. I love you. 

I look up at him, tears flowing down my face. I move closer to him and wrap my arms around him, he continuously runs his fingers through my hair letting me just cry. I smile, not knowing what else to do and he mirrors my expression and we just sit there for a couple of minutes. 

“It’s over, right?” I ask, afraid that he might not be through with her yet. 

“She’s moving out as we speak, her bags have all been packed for her and Tiny’s driving her to the apartment she shares with Nick Evans. I called your firm and told them that we wouldn’t be pursuing a case now or never. Tiffany’s has their ring back but I told them I might be back someday,” he smiles down at me again, his face inches closer to mine every second that goes by. 

“So where does this leave us? You ask?” He questions, “It leaves me, here with you, every moment of every day. I hope that doesn’t bother you much.” 

I laugh at the last comment and press my face forward to his, our lips finally touch and that familiar feeling inside my stomach flows throughout the rest of my body as he pulls me on top of him. 

“You, Mr. Timberlake, owe me big time,” I say, breaking the kiss and he laughs the hearty laugh that makes me turn to mush. 

“I have my whole life to pay you back, that should be good enough, right?” He questions, moving his hands onto my jeans, trying to undo the button. I bite my head and nod, knowing where this is about to go and I couldn’t be happier. 

I move my face over his ear, “Just promise me one thing...” I pause, and he turns to kiss me again. He stops and allows his lips to hover over mine, “What’s that?”

“Don’t ever break my heart again,” I say and he smiles and kisses me again. 

“I promise, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be breaking other things. Like these jeans for example, fuckin’ buttons.” 

“Justin?” He looks at me again, his eyes staring at me like brilliant stars. 

“Liz?” I can feel somebody shaking me, “Liz! Wake up!” 

I open my eyes, looking around, noting the familiar scene of my living room, but I’m unable to understand why Trace is standing next to Justin the entire time. 

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me,” I ramble on to myself. I move to wake myself up. Looking at the phone, I notice that there’s nothing there, nothing but an empty screen with no messages or voicemail. 

“Liz, shut up.” Justin states, his face looks at me like he’s apologizing. I start to feel the tears well up in my eyes and unable to control my emotion, I let them fall over my cheeks, trailing with mascara. 

Trace moves to sit next to me, “I’m sorry,” he says and puts an arm around me. 

“No, it can’t be. Justin?” I begin to cry harder unable to control my emotions.

Trace looks at me again unable to hide the smile from his face, “I’m sorry... but Liz-bo, that girl is a tramp. She is a h-o-b-a-g. Sleeping with way too many men.” 

I stand up and look at Justin and he’s smiling that smile again. I run up to him and jump and his arms wrap around me, letting me know every thing’s going to be okay. 

He moves to kiss me and I just stay there for a moment, embracing everything about this moment. The way his lips feel on top of mine, the little jolts of lightning and Trace making gagging noises in the background. I can feel Justin lifting one hand, apparently flipping him off. 

He breaks the kiss, smiling at me again. “Hi,” he calmly states. 

“Hi,” I reply back. Unable to move from his grasp or stop looking at him. “It’s over, right?”

Trace quotes Justin, “Get the fuck out of my house, you triflin’ ho and get your shit, too!”

I laugh with him and Justin puts me down, “Yes, it’s over. In fact, it never should’ve begun. She found another celebrity to say the least. And me? I’m happy as fucking hell here, this is where I belong.”

Trace moves over to us, “I was just the driver, I’m going home. I’ll see you two tomorrow.” He smiles and makes gagging noises as Justin begins to kiss me again. 

“God damn that girl for leaving,” Trace quips, “now I have to deal with this lovesick shit. Hey Liz-bo, any more roommates I need to know about?”

I smile and shake my head at Trace, “Nope, not that I know of.”

“Damn,” he snaps his finger, “guess I’ll have to find some other gold-digger.”

“I can think of a few people,” I state. With that, Trace walks out the door and I move, heading up the stairs, Justin following me.

“Where do you think you’re going?” I ask.

“To make love to my girlfriend,” He states and picks me up, unable to stop laughing. 

I fumble through the keys in the bowl, looking for the BMW so I can quietly make it out of the house without him hearing me leave. It’s still early in the morning and the butterflies are still pounding loudly against my stomach. He’s been here for a week already and he has no intentions of leaving and although I’m not excited to have him around, I have a job to get back to.

I finally find the keys I’m looking for and head to work. Everything about this situation screams wrong but every morning I’ve woken up, I can’t fight the grin that exudes itself all over my face. It’s like without him, I’m just not me. He puts the smile on my face, he makes me want to laugh again, he makes me want to be happy, hell, he makes me feel like I have the right to be happy again.

I drive down the roads with nothing but the sun shining down on the car. I go through the motions of the drive and as I stop at the last light his song comes through the radio and immediately I get all giddy inside, knowing that he’s still at home, my home, and he never wants to leave.

Pulling into the parking lot, I park in my usual space and grab my things and head into the office building. I make my way to the elevator and press the button to the 15th floor and I plaster my face to resemble the one that states “ready to work” even though I want to be at home with him right now. 

Missy is sitting at her desk and as she looks up at me she smiles shocked, “Liz! You’re back, how are you?”

I nod, smiling “I’m really good. How are you?” I ask as I float through the mounds of messages that have been left for me. 

“I’m great, it’s so good to have you back. I’ll have to let Mr. Brown know that you’re back, he’s been wanting to go to lunch with you.”

I nod again, moving into my office, “Tell him I’m ready whenever he is.”

I move over to the computer and when I put my password into my email, I’m flooded with hundreds of messages. The little chat bubble continues to bounce up and down and I finally click on it to see who is messaging me.

jayman: did you honestly think I wouldn’t hear you leave this morning. I’m mad you didn’t say bye.

llahzil: I didn’t want to wake you up, I’m sorry. I had to go back to work at some point.

jayman: Nope, you could’ve just stayed in bed for forever, that would’ve been okay with me ;) 

llahzil: I’ll be home tonight, don’t worry about it.

jayman: That’s not soon enough

llahzil: You can wait, I promise.

Mr Brown walks into the room and I end the conversation with Justin.

llahzil: boss is here, have to go, love you

jayman: love you more.

“Liz, how are you?” Mr. Brown asks as he sits down in the chair in front of my desk. 

“I’m good, how are you, Mr. Brown?” 

“I’ve been okay, we’ve got some things to talk about.”

I look up at the man, confused by his statement and he proceeds.

“We really needed that lawsuit and I understand that it’s been resolved privately. Well, this obviously means some cuts for the company.”

I nod in response, “What are you trying to say, Mr. Brown?”

“Well,” he fumbles with his jacket pocket, “I think it might be time for us to let you go, Liz.” 

“What?” I question, the words having a hard time forming in my brain, “I’ve pulled in more revenue for the firm than any two people combined. You can’t do such a thing, Mr. Brown.”

“Liz, I think you’re better suited for a firm where your love life will not become an issue and cost money. I believe you’re a great lawyer but I think your time here has passed.”

I am furious at this, knowing he involved the one thing in my life that I have attempted to keep private, “Mr. Brown, I truly feel sorry for you. At this point, you’ll be lucky to find half as good of a lawyer as I am.”

“Sorry, Liz... Can you pack your things please?” 

I stand up, fiddling with the things on my desk, “My fucking pleasure.”

He leaves the office and I grab my things, placing them into the boxes in the closet and I begin to move them to my car. I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes as I hit the button on the elevator one last time and I look up to see Nick Evans is walking out of it.

“Hi Liz,” he states.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 

“Thanks for the job, it’s a really great chance.”

I move past the man and into the elevator. My mind is boiling over the situation and the fact that Nick Evans is taking my fucking job. I am absolutely positively livid. I get out of the elevator and get in the car, the last of my boxes in the back seat and I floor the engine to get home as fast as I can. 

I pull the car into the driveway, noting the odd car in it and I realize who it is at my front doorstep as I get out of the car. 

“This is private property, I think it best if you leave,” I state.

“I just need to talk to him,” she states.

“No, you don’t fucking understand, get off my property before I call the police.”

“It must drive you crazy inside, Liz. You know deep down he still has feelings for me and there’s nothing you can ever do to change it.”

“Right, Lauren. That’s why you cheated on the best thing to ever happen to you.” 

She rolls her eyes at me and continues to ring the doorbell. I move past her, key in hand and open the door, moving to slam it in her face but her hand holds out, preventing me from doing so.

“Fucking go, Lauren! This is my house, you have absolutely no right to be here.”

“Aw, Liz, don’t be mad, I know Nick took your job,” she states smugly flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“Go to fucking hell you bitch,” I can feel Justin behind me and I turn to look at the man, his face shocked.

“Why are you here?” He asks.

“I need to talk to you,” she states, her hands over her stomach.

He rolls his eyes, “So fucking talk.”

“I mean, do we have to in front of her?” She questions.

Justin moves his arm around me and pulls me closer, “Did you not come to her fucking house? She’s the biggest part of my life and if you have something to say to me, then you have something to say to her. If you can’t understand that or get that then I suggest you leave.”

“Well,” she states, “I’m not a hundred percent sure about this, but there could’ve been an error in the paternity test and I think we should have another one done in case it’s your child.”

He shakes his head, “I think one is good enough, but if you want to have Nick take it with you, maybe that will work better.”

A scowl forms on her face, “You know, I thought you cared.”

“If it was my kid, I would, but it’s not. So leave please.”

She moves towards her car and the door slams echoing throughout the house. I feel weak inside and cannot help but to crash down against it and begin to cry. He moves and sits down next to me, wrapping his arms around me.

“He fucking fired me and Nick has my job now,” I mumble between sobs. “I’m the best fucking lawyer in Tennessee and I’m fucking out of a job.”

He places a kiss on my forehead, “You can be my lawyer, I need one anyways with all the new record stuff coming up. I’ll pay you double your salary.”

My mind races inside, knowing that I never wanted something like this to happen. I established myself so if something with him ever happened I would still be able to support myself, I never wanted to have to rely on him. 

“Liz?” he questions.

And through my tears, for the first time, I hesitate, “I’ll think about it.”

He sighs and just pulls me into him. Knowing that it might be harder than anything for me to give up my pride. 

I haven’t eaten in days and I’m not even remotely hungry. I sit in the kitchen, watching him as he moves around, doing everything he can to make sure that tonight’s dinner goes exactly the way he planned. It’s been like this every night since I lost my job but as he looks up from the stove, I see the face that he’s been giving me for quite some time now. It pleads with me, begs me to understand where he’s coming from. 

“Have you given any thought to my proposal?” He questions, stirring the sauce.

I look up at him, my eyes heavy with the stress of losing the biggest thing in my life that I’ve achieved, “I don’t know, Justin, what do you want me to tell you?”

He turns from the sauce, satisfied with the result and moves to get the bowl of pasta. “I don’t know, Liz, a ‘that would be great!’ would work okay for me,” he states.

I shake my head, finally grabbing a piece of bread from the basket, “But you know it’s not okay, I haven’t had you around to hold my hand through college or the LSATS or law school, if there’s one thing I shouldn’t need you holding my hand for, it’s a job.”

I look up at him and see the anger that begins to show on his face, “It’s not fucking like that, Liz. You’re my girlfriend but before that you were one of the best goddamn attorneys in Tennessee. Why the hell can’t I hire you?”

“Because it’s fucking weird having sex with your boss, okay?!” I scream at the top of my lungs, knowing full well the neighbors can probably hear me.

“You think that’s all I do is have sex with you? Come on, honey, I’m Justin Timberlake... I do more than just that,” he states as he takes my hand and pulls me up from the chair. 

He pulls me into his arms, making me feel the comfort that comes along with him around me. He gently puts kisses all over my face, “I sing, I shake my booty, I make your ass look good in dem jeans.”

I stop him, “But Justin, I’m Elizabeth Hall, the feministic bitch who was never happy unless she was successful on her own.” He holds his finger up to my mouth.

“I wasn’t finished. But I’m also Liz Hall’s boyfriend and as her boyfriend I will do anything in my power to make her happy because when she’s happy, I’m happy. If that means having Jive hire her as my attorney, then fuck yeah, I’m gonna make that happen. If it means letting her do her own thing, then yeah, I’m gonna let her do that too. But I will not sit around any longer and watch her feel sorry for herself, nope, won’t do it.”

“When do I start?” I question.

I smile as I kiss him, unable to restrain myself. He picks me up and puts me down on the dining room chair and I look up at him confused.

“I did not do all of this cooking to ruin it with a make-out session. You need to eat because you haven’t in days. But I wouldn’t mind it at all if we ate a little food and a little bit of each other.” He winks as he moves back into the kitchen, bringing the food in and a lot of napkins.

“Your first assignment is this, Miss Hall.” He points down to the fettucini alfredo, “Eat, a lot. You’re going to need a lot of energy.”

I laugh as I taste the pasta, moaning at how good it is. He’s really outdone himself with this one, I’ve never had anything like this in my entire life. I can slightly feel him pulling my shorts off of my body and I look down at him with questions on my face. 

“Don’t give me that look.” He places his palm on top of my mound and instantly I feel myself longing for only him. “Assignment number two, Miss Hall. You need to eat that pasta for me and you will be rewarded. Every bite you take has it’s own little prize.”

I take another bite of the pasta and i look down at him, slowly removing my panties. I know he can see how wet I am down there but he just continues to stare at me eating. I take the last bite of the pasta and as the food is in my mouth, he blows on my sensitive spot and instantly my mind goes wild.

He looks up at me again, giving the cockiest grin that I’ve ever seen on his face. He slowly puts his thumb on top of my clit and begins to rub circles in ways that drive me crazy. 

“Justin, please, don’t tease me” I stammer.

But he just continues on his conquest of me. Feeling around until he’s satisfied with the reactions all over my face. He leans me back so that i lie flat against the two dining room chairs and he begins to attack me with his mouth.

God, the things that man can do to me. I tremble as I feel the little lighting shocks go off throughout my body and when I feel like I can’t take anymore, he stops.

I whine and buck my hips, begging for more. “Damn baby, you taste so good.”

He licks his fingers and slowly pushes two inside of me. My body rages against the friction he’s creating and I feel like I’m so close. His mouth begins the torture on my clit again and I can feel the waves come crashing through my body.

“Justin!” I scream, panting with it as he sucks up all of my juices. 

He lifts me up from the chair and moves me down the stairs to the basement which I haven’t entered in weeks.

There’s candles everywhere and he’s got music playing in the background but there’s handles and different looking beds everywhere. 

“What is this?” I question.

“I told you, you were going to need your energy.” He leans in closer to my ear, “Because every one of these things I’m going to fuck you silly in.” 

I blush at his words and unable to contain myself I jump onto the first bed where he follows me. 

“I love you, Liz. I love your heart, I love your body, I fucking love every part of you.”

“I love you too, Justin.” 

And with that, he starts this crazy game all over again.