Nobody Gets Me (Like You)

Epilogue

Jughead lined Betty up with the front of the house, steadying her body so she wouldn't slip off of the curb. "Can I see yet?" she asked, twisting her lips.

"Okay," he breathed, pulling the bandanna away from her eyes. She inhaled deeply as she stared at the house in front of them, looking over at Jughead with wide, questioning eyes. "I can explain, I promise."

5 months earlier...

Betty sat down in a chair at the dining table and Jughead sat down beside her, wincing as he knocked into the table. Alice gave him a dirty look and Betty sighed, tucking hair behind her ear.

"It's crowded," he muttered and she nodded, glancing at Polly when she saw her sorry frown out of the corner of her eye. "It's not my fault."

"Jug, I know. But this is my mom," she muttered, her eyes sorry. "Just ignore it, okay? I'm sorry."

He offered a thin lipped smile and she swallowed thickly, taking the plate her dad passed her. The conversation stayed light as food was passed around the table and glasses were filled with wine.

"So," Alice started moments after everyone had begun eating. She folded her hands together, eyeing Betty and Jughead. "You two live together, obviously, right?"

"Yes, you know that," Betty mumbled, getting a glare from Alice.

Alice sighed, continuing, "Don't you think it's time to move out of the city? Time to think about settling down? Having kids? Getting married? That comes first, obviously. We don't need any more bastard children in this family."

"Mom." Polly and Betty said in unison while Charles snorted, knowing he was the bastard child in question.

"As for your... questions," Betty said softly, glancing at Jughead who shrugged. "We have a life in the city and we're just not so sure we're ready to leave, that's all. And we've... discussed marriage and we're just not ready."

"That sounds like a pathetic excuse to me."

"Not being ready to get married is a pathetic excuse?"

"I was married by your age—to your father. And we were buying a house."

"We're two different people, mom. Life does not play out the same. Besides, we're still... young, really young."

Alice rolled her eyes. "You should be grateful you found him," she mumbled and Betty furrowed her brows. "You drink like your life depends on it and lord knows you'll never stay below a size 6 to save your life."

It was the same insult Betty had been hearing since she was 15. It held little to no meaning but still managed to make her feel sick to her stomach. She stood slowly up out of her seat, setting her napkin on her plate.

Jughead reached for her and under her breath she said, "Don't touch me."

He stood up after her and she slowly walked out the front door of the house. "She's your daughter," he stated and Alice shrugged.

"You won't tell her what she needs to hear."

"Mom, stop," Polly said with a pointed look.

Alice threw her hands up angrily, rolling her eyes. "Take her side," she muttered and Jughead pinched the bridge of his nose. He left the table and followed Betty's path outside. He sat down beside her on the stairs, keeping a little amount of space between the two of them.

"You don't have to say anything or call me pretty or whatever," she began, watching her hands. "I left because I just don't want to be there and I don't want to listen to it. She's been saying the same thing to me since I was a teeanger, I'm immune to it, but it doesn't mean I want to sit there and listen to it."