Sometimes the person you love can break your heart the most. It's the unexpected words that hit you like a slap in the face, leaving you reeling in disbelief.
That's precisely what happened during our discussion, Jensen and I. In our five-year relationship, we've had our share of arguments, but this time felt different. This time, the hurt ran deeper, and I struggled to comprehend how we reached this point. As tears welled up in my eyes, I sat quietly on the couch, biting my lips to stave off the urge to cry.
"I'm really tired, Y/N. It's like coming home from the set..." Jensen's words hung in the air, unfinished, as I looked up at him, surprised. "What about coming home?" I interjected, my voice trembling with emotion. "If you're so tired of being with me, why pretend everything's fine?" The tears flowed freely now, and I tasted blood from biting my lips too hard. Jensen paused, clearly taken aback. "I-I didn't mean it like that." he stammered, but his words offered little solace.
"What did you mean, then? I'm sorry, but just because I'm a psychologist doesn't mean I can understand everything in the subconscious." I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. I suddenly stood up and walked towards the door. I took my jacket from the coat rack and spoke without looking at him, "I need some air. And maybe you need some time to think too." Without waiting for a response, I headed for the door.
"Y/N, stop! Where are you going?" Jensen's voice trailed after me, but his tone held a note of desperation rather than anger.
As I closed the garden gate behind me, I heard Jensen calling my name,his voice tinged with desperation. When I turned into the street, I couldn't hold myself back anymore and leaned against the wall and started sobbing. Did Jensen truly feel that way? Had he grown tired of me and our relationship? Until that moment, I thought I knew Jensen inside out – my best friend, my lover, my husband. His words felt like a dagger to my heart, shattering my sense of security.
"All I wanted was for you to see me. I didn't want just a fraction of your time ; I needed more. I thought I mattered more to you than your work, Y/N." Jensen's words echoed in my mind, fueling my feelings of inadequacy. Was I projecting my own insecurities onto him without even realizing it? Had I been so preoccupied with my own battles that I failed to see his struggles? Meeting Jensen had felt like finding myself, like I could finally be my true self around him. But now, I questioned everything.
Lost in my thoughts, I continued walking until I found myself sitting on a bench by the sea, staring blankly at the water. Time seemed to blur as I grappled with my emotions, until the vibration of my phone snapped me back to reality. It was just a sales call, but it served as a reminder of how much time had passed – nearly two hours since I left home.
Even though my heart was broken, I was crazy wondering what Jensen was doing. I remembered how he desperately called my name as I left home. Maybe I overreacted by leaving the house, he obviously had a problem. The man I knew wasn't the type to say such things. Even though I know how reckless he can be when he's angry, he's not towards me. I slowly got up and went back the way I came to go home.
When I got to the door, I took a deep breath and slowly opened the door. There was no sound. He should have come out too. As I entered the house, the silence was deafening. Jensen should have followed me out. Hanging up my jacket, my eyes fell on the living room sofa, where Jensen lay asleep, clutching a photo of us from our honeymoon. A half-empty glass of whiskey sat on the table beside him. Moving silently, I watched him for a moment, a bittersweet smile tugging at my lips. Retrieving a blanket, I covered him gently before taking the photo from his hand.
"You came..." His voice startled me as he stirred awake. "I came." I replied softly, my heart heavy with unspoken words. "I... I'm so sorry, darling." he began, attempting to sit up. I shook my head, urging him to rest. "Let's not talk about it now. You're not yourself." I insisted, gesturing to the glass. "You go to sleep; I'll be upstairs."
"No, I'm fine." he protested, tossing the blanket aside. Taking my hands in his, he continued, "Your eyes are red. I hate myself for causing you pain." I withdrew my hands, unable to meet his gaze, and sat a few feet away. Though I saw the hurt in his eyes, I knew he needed to understand the gravity of his words.
"Why did you leave?" he asked softly. "We both needed space to calm down." I explained, taking a deep breath before continuing, "You seemed distant, and I... I thought if I left for a while, you might feel better." Tears threatened to surface again, and I bit my lip to steady myself. "I thought... I thought you were bored with me." I confessed, finally meeting his gaze.
"Bored with you? Where did you get that idea?" His expression betrayed his confusion. "You said it yourself, Jensen. 'I'm really tired now, Y/N. As if the set wasn't enough, when I got home...' Those were your words." I replied, searching his face for answers.
"That's not what I meant." he insisted, his tone pleading for understanding. I regarded him skeptically, unsure of what to believe.
*TO BE CONTİNUED*
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Jensen Ackles/Dean Winchester Imagines
FanfictionI have a hopeless addiction for Jensen Ackles and his beloved character Dean Winchester 😉So, I created this stories... Have fun guys ❤
