Kie
I wake up slowly, still swaying back and forth in the hammock from last night. The sun sweeps over us in a golden, hazy light, and every so often it just perfectly shines through a wave. I stretch slightly, trying my best not to wake up JJ beside me. My muscles are a little sore from being scrunched up in the hammock all night, but I don't mind—as long as I'm next to my boy.
He doesn't stay asleep for long, eventually brushing a hand over my back and kissing my face. "Mornin', baby," he hums.
"Good morning."
"What's the plan today, Mrs. Maybank?" he murmurs into my shoulder.
"Surf," I suggest slyly, hiding my flushed face from him.
"You don't say," he teases back.
"We'll surf and get the most delicious breakfast and maybe," I turn my face and peek out of one eye cheekily, "buy a gift for little baby Routledge."
He chuckles. "You're really on about this whole "cool aunt" thing, huh?"
"Duh. We have a reputation to uphold, J." I smile big and dumb, which is something I've only ever been able to do with JJ. I've always been a little more reserved—tough and outwardly apathetic—probably an outcome of my parents. With JJ, though, I can let go.
He stretches as much as the hammock will allow, pressing a soft kiss into my shoulder again. "Alright. Surf, food, baby shopping—sounds like a plan."
And that it is. We climb out of the hammock, which ends in JJ losing his balance and toppling onto the sand. I cackle as he groans, flipping onto his back, arms sprawled out like a starfish. "Go ahead. Laugh it up."
"Oh, I am." I grin down at him before holding out a hand. "Come on, loser."
He takes it, yanking me down with him instead. I yelp as I land half on top of him, and he takes full advantage, wrapping his arms around me and rolling us so I'm pinned under him. His face is close to mine, eyes bright with mischief.
"I love you," he murmurs.
I don't hesitate. "I love you more."
We untangle ourselves and pull on our swimsuits—navy blue board shorts for JJ, a cherry-printed bikini for me. We grab our boards and walk barefoot down to the beach, the sand still cool from the night. The morning crowd is just starting to roll in, but the waves are still wide open.
The morning crowd is starting to roll in onto the beach, but it's still pretty empty, and I can tell just by the air that the surf is going to be perfect. JJ's knees dig into the sand as he waxes our boards, doing all of the work while I pull my hair up into a bun, already feeling the warmth of the sun. Usually, I'd wax my own board—it's something I've found to be soothing and therapeutic back at home—but ever since we started this honeymoon, JJ insisted he do it for me, something about his 'husband duties.'
I try to pretend I don't notice the way he's watching me—soft, adoring, like I'm the only girl in the world. "What?" I ask, biting back a smile.
"Nothing." He smirks. "Just thinking about how pretty my wife is."
I roll my eyes, but my face is burning. "Shut up."
Instead of shutting up, JJ leans in and kisses me, slow and deep, his fingers curling against my waist; but then a wave crashes in the distance, and my body hums in response. I grab his hand and pull him to the shore. "Come on! The ocean's calling me!"
JJ laughs, letting me drag him along. "You're such a surf nerd." I don't deny it.
The second I hit the water, all my muscles relax. It's the best kind of cold—shocking at first, but refreshing once you're fully in. JJ paddles out beside me, flashing me a grin before catching the first wave. I follow soon after, dropping in and letting the salt spray against my skin.
We surf for hours until our bodies physically can't take any more. I wipe out at least three times trying to get one more ride in, and JJ won't stop laughing.
"You're cooked, Kie," he says as I crawl onto my board, breathing hard. "Time to tap out."
I huff, flipping onto my back so I'm floating in the water. "Yeah, yeah. Fine."
Once we're back in the sand, my arms and legs feel like jelly, but in a good way—the way that makes you feel alive.
Back at our villa, we almost bike to a little café we've been frequenting, but ultimately, we decide that for our last full day, we should keep it just us.
JJ insists I stand by and watch so that he can cook and I can do what I do best: look pretty, in his words. He cooks eggs and bacon, and I cut up a watermelon to snack on while he dramatically perfects the apparent five-star meal.
I take a bite first, staring him dead in the eye as I chew, trying to keep my face as still as possible.
His face lights up. "Tell me it's delicious. Come on."
I make a face, pretending not to be impressed, but I eventually break, sighing dramatically. "Okay, okay. It's good."
"Good?!" he gasps, stealing a piece of bacon off of my plate and taking a bite. "Good? Nah. This is, like, top-tier, Michelin star type shit."
"Fine," I say, rolling my eyes. "Babe, this is the most delicious breakfast I've tasted in my whole nineteen—almost twenty—years of breakfasts. Happy?"
"The happiest I've ever been." He slides back to his plate, and we eat silently for a few moments, just taking everything in. JJ remembers something then, picking up his head excitedly. "What was all that talk about baby shopping?"
My eyes light up at the reminder. "I feel like we have to, J. We should bring something back for her; she's going to be here so soon."
"Soon? Sarah still has forever till she gives birth," JJ mumbles, taking another forkful of fruit.
"JJ, she's thirty-one weeks—this is the final stretch." He still doesn't look convinced, wrinkling his brows. "Whatever. Soon or not, we're buying this baby a gift."
"A gift?" JJ asks. "Just one?"
"I like the way you're thinking, mister."
After breakfast, we take our time cleaning up, washing dishes and packing up leftovers. We move slowly, going back and forth between chores and intimate embraces. JJ dries one last plate, looking back at me as he slings the damp towel over his shoulder.
"So, what's next?"
"Wanna spend some money?" I ask.
"Anything for you." This makes me smile, even though I can tell JJ's a little uncomfortable. Even now—even with the multiple, multiple millions we've been lucky enough to acquire—JJ doesn't like spending money. He never had it growing up, and the stinginess has followed him into early adulthood. I, however, did have money growing up, so I'm a little more lenient when it comes to spending money.
An hour later, we rent bikes and ride into town, the sun high and bright, the streets alive with music and the chatter of tourists. The town is small and colorful, every building painted in shades of turquoise, coral, and golden yellow. It reminds me of little pockets of home, but without all the memories of my parents breathing down my neck.
JJ's ahead of me, effortlessly weaving through the crowd, turning back every few seconds to make sure I'm still there. "You good back there, Kie?"
"I will run you over."
He laughs, slowing enough to ride beside me. "I'd like to see you try." I shoot him a look but can't help smiling.
When we finally find a little boutique, I grab JJ's hand and drag him inside. The store is small but cozy, filled with racks of tiny linen onesies and soft cotton dresses. Everything looks handmade, delicate embroidery stitched into each piece. I'm immediately enthralled, stopping in front of each little thing, completely in awe.
JJ picks up a miniature pair of board shorts, holding them up like they're the most fascinating thing in the world. "Dude. They're so small."
I laugh. "That's kind of how babies work."
He turns them over in his hands, and for a second, something shifts in his face—something soft, something wistful. It makes my heart ache in a way I wasn't expecting.
I step beside him, tracing a finger over the fabric. "You okay?"
JJ snaps out of it, shaking his head with a grin. "Yeah, just, never thought I'd be standing in a baby store, voluntarily."
"Shocking character development," I tease.
He smirks. "Guess marriage changes a man."
We browse for a while, debating every tiny outfit like it's a life-or-death decision.
"I don't even know where to start," I groan, faking a cry. "I just want to buy everything!"
"Trust me—if it was an option, I'd pack this whole store onto the plane home. Baby girl deserves it."
"Awe, babe! What a softy!" I tease. He rolls his eyes and walks away, finding another section of the store.
My fingers trace over lacy hems and bubbly outfits, thinking about everything that's to come. I teased JJ about it, but it's true. Everything really is just so small. I try to imagine a baby that small, cradled perfectly in Sarah's arms. I know she can do it, and I know it'll work out like it should, but it's still scary. She's nineteen, and the rest of us aren't much older. All of the other people our age are graduating high school and choosing majors. We aren't, but I'm choosing to believe that this is where we're meant to be.
JJ walks back over, hiding something behind his back. "I think I got the perfect thing," he beams.
I laugh nervously. "Let's see it."
He waits a few seconds to build suspicion and then flashes the gift from behind his back. It's a small, foam surfboard—pink and stripey. My jaw falls open. "It's perfect, right!?"
"JJ, she's a baby. She can't surf."
"She will one day," he gasps, offended. "The moment she's old enough, I'm teaching her, and she'll be the coolest kid out there. Hands down."
"Yeah, alright. Tell that to Sarah," I quip. "But fine, we'll buy it. I'm getting her something else, though."
It takes me a few more minutes to decide, but I eventually settle on a set of onesies—one teal, one butter yellow, and the other navy stripes, all embroidered with little shells and starfish. They're perfectly Pogue-chic, perfectly Sarah. I pick up a few baby bathing suits as well, complete with a tiny rash guard and towel, perfect for Sarah to get embroidered once they've decided on a name.
JJ rolls his eyes at my full arms, but happily walks me over to the cashier's desk. When we place all of the things down on the counter, the cashier smiles up at us.
"You two must be so excited," she grins up at us.
JJ stiffens next to me, confused. "Huh?"
"Is this your first?" she asks, not taking the hint yet. I can sense how awkward JJ is feeling, so I jump before he can say anything else stupid.
"Oh! No, ma'am. This is for a friend," I clarify. "We're on our honeymoon, actually, so no babies!" I'm awkward too, I guess, but a little less than JJ.
"Well, soon enough, right?" She looks up, flickering between us with bright, lived-in eyes, scanning the last tag.
JJ stifles out a laugh. "I don't know about that, ma'am, but thank you."
"You're welcome, young man. You two have a fine day, you hear?"
"You too. Thank you."
The bell rings as the door shuts behind us, and JJ secures the bags to his bike before we ride off. The bike ride back to the house is quiet. It's not totally strained, but I know we're both thinking about the interaction with the cashier. We stop back at the house to drop the bags off and then we head back out, walking from the house down to the beach. The sun is bright now, but actively lowering, passing noon and falling into evening hours.
JJ's hand is wrapped in mine, familiar and present, but there's a strange tension between us.
"Do you think the baby's going to like the surfboard," he asks me softly.
"Eventually, but it's gonna be a while before she's, like, actually conscious."
He snorts. "Babies don't even do anything, do they? They just eat and sleep. And cry."
"You sound terrified," I tease.
JJ looks down at the sand, kicking a small shell aside. "I mean, it's kinda crazy, right? We were all just dumbass kids last year, and now Sarah's about to be a mom."
I nod, exhaling. "Yeah. It's a lot, but we aren't even getting half of it."
"What do you mean?"
"Even we can feel that it's a lot. Can you imagine what they're feeling? And, honestly, forget John B. Can you imagine what Sarah's feeling?"
We walk a little further before I continue, finally saying what I've been thinking all day. "We have to be there for her."
JJ doesn't hesitate. "Obviously."
"No, like—really be there for her," I insist. "Not just popping in and out when it's convenient. She's gonna need help and support. We're all so young, and she didn't plan this, and John B's great, but..."
JJ sighs, running a hand through his salt-damp hair. "Yeah. I know what you mean."
"She needs us," I say softly. "All of us."
JJ nods, then glances at me. "You ever think about it?"
I frown. "Think about what?"
He hesitates, looking ahead at the waves before finally saying, "Kids."
I stop walking for a second, caught off guard.
JJ notices and lets out an awkward laugh. "Sorry, was that too—?"
"No, no," I cut in quickly. "I just—I mean, yeah. I think about it."
We start walking again, slower this time.
"I want kids," I admit. "Not now, not soon, but someday."
JJ stays quiet, staring at the water. When he finally speaks, his voice is softer. "I want whatever you want." Classic JJ—sacrificing himself for the people he loves. I glance up at him, but he won't meet my eyes.
I squeeze his hand. "JJ."
He exhales, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I don't know how to be a dad, Kie." His voice is so small when he says it. It almost sounds like he's ashamed. My heart clenches. I step in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. He finally looks at me, and I can see it—the fear, the uncertainty, the deep-seated belief that he'll somehow screw it up. That he's too much like his father.
Sometimes, I wonder if JJ even realizes how much he's already broken the cycle. He carries the weight of his past like it's an inevitability, like it's something that'll always creep back in if he's not careful. I see him, though,—really see him—and he's already everything his dad never was. He's kind, protective, and fiercely loyal. He loves so loudly, even when he doesn't realize it. I watch the way he is with our friends, with Sarah, the way he worries about things he pretends not to care about, and I know, without a doubt, that he's going to be an incredible husband and, when the time comes, an incredible father. I know this because he's already been one of the best people I've ever known.
I think part of him is scared that loving something that much means he could lose it. That maybe, if he lets himself dream about a future—marriage, kids, a home—something will rip it away. That's the thing about JJ—he's so used to bracing for impact that he doesn't always realize when he's already safe. When we're safe. And maybe we don't have all the answers yet, but I do know one thing: I'm not going anywhere. One day, when he's ready, I'll be right there beside him, proving that love doesn't have to hurt. That family can mean something different with us. Something good.
I take both his hands in mine. "JJ, you don't have to know everything right now. And you're nothing like Luke." He exhales sharply, like he doesn't believe me. "You're kind, JJ," I insist. "And loving. And you care more than anyone I've ever met. You're gonna be an amazing dad one day."
His throat bobs as he swallows. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," I whisper.
He nods slowly, then shakes his head with a chuckle. "Well, shit. Look at us. Talkin' about babies on our honeymoon."
I laugh. "I mean, we did just buy our best friend's kid her first surfboard and rash guard."
JJ smirks. "Fair point."
I take a breath, lacing our fingers together. "One day," I say, glancing up at him. "But right now? We've got a different baby to take care of first."
He grins. "Baby girl Routledge."
"Exactly."
JJ lets out a mock sigh. "Guess I better practice my diaper-changing skills."
I snort. "You? You can barely remember to put on sunscreen."
He gasps, clutching his chest. "That was one time, Kie. One time."
I laugh, and suddenly the air feels lighter. The weight of the conversation settles into something warm, something safe.
We keep walking, and the ocean hums around us, endless and steady. Eventually, we get tired and find our way back to the rental, where we settle in. JJ sprawls himself across the sofa, flipping through TV channels we both know he isn't really watching. We're both paying attention to something else—this feeling that this, our beautiful honeymoon, is coming to an end.
Begrudgingly, I start to pack up our stuff, sorting between clean and dirty clothes, putting each pile in a different suitcase. JJ's suitcase is one of my dad's because, somehow, he'd never had a suitcase before. JJ pleaded to help me pack, but I confidently refused, knowing how horribly disorganized he is.
He grabs a beer out of the fridge and sits on the bed, watching me as I pack on the wooden floors. "You're beautiful," he says so easily. I blush.
"Stop."
"Never."
I roll my eyes, searching for a second before picking it up and dialing the second most familiar number. "I'm calling Sarah," I mutter.
"Fine. Forget about your husband," he mopes, but I know he's joking. "Tell her I say hi."
She answers in less than two rings, her voice cutting through the speakers like candy. "Kie!" she exclaims.
"Hi, honeybee!" I sing back, already in an even better mood. "I missed you!"
"I missed you too," Sarah pouts, audibly sadder than before.
"Oh, boo-hoo," JJ mocks, walking out of the room to give us some privacy. "You guys talked yesterday."
"Yeah, like, a whole twenty-four hours ago," Sarah retorts.
"So much can happen in twenty-four hours," I agree, egging her on.
"Like what?"
"Well, I saw JJ eat shit on a wave this morning."
Sarah snorts, "That's hardly new."
JJ must hear from the other room, because I hear the faintest yell through the walls. "You promised you wouldn't tell!"
"I'll kiss you later!" I call back, knowing just how to calm him down. Sarah giggles, and for the tiniest fraction of a second, it feels like we're back at the Chateau, lounging and talking about everything and nothing at the same time.
"And after we surfed, JJ made the most delicious breakfast," I continue, speaking loudly so JJ can hear my praises. "Then, we may or may not have spent too much money on a certain someone."
Sarah catches on immediately. "Kie! You didn't have to do that."
"I quite literally did, though. I couldn't resist," I admit, smiling big even though I know she can't see me.
There's a pause, just a little one, and I suddenly remember the moment at the store—the cashier's assumption. For some reason, I don't bring it up.
Instead, I say, "We also just walked on the beach for a while. Talked about stuff."
She understands. "Stuff?"
I hesitate. Then I sigh, setting the phone down on my thigh as I fold and re-fold one of JJ's sweatshirts. "Kids."
Sarah is quiet for a second. "Oh."
"Yeah."
"What about them?"
I chew on my lip, trying to find the right words. "I mean, I want them, but I'm not ready."
Sarah lets out a small breath, like she understands completely. "I get it. One hundred percent. A couple of days before we got pregnant—the first night of our honeymoon—JB mentioned kids, and I thought he was insane. I swore we were way too young and were nowhere near prepared enough for a baby. But here we are."
"And JJ?" Sarah asks.
I lower my voice, not really wanting him to hear. "He says he wants them, but I think the idea scares him more than he lets on."
Sarah doesn't respond right away, and for a second, I wonder if I said too much, but then she says, "That makes sense too."
I frown. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Sarah's voice is softer now. "I mean, his parents... he never really had an example of what being a good parent looks like. So of course it's scary."
I feel something tighten in my chest. "I hate that for him."
"I know," Sarah says quietly.
I let out a breath, moving on to another piece of clothing. "Anyway. That's enough about us. What about you? How's the belly? How's John B.? Any baby girl updates?"
"She's been bad for Mommy today, huh?" She sings, obviously talking to her belly more than she is to me.
"Kicking?" I ask.
"If you can even call it that. Today was pretty bad," she admits. "Between that and the back pain and the Braxton Hicks, I'm having a rough day."
"I'm sorry, Sar."
"It's fine," she sighs. "I got myself into this."
"I'm just sorry I haven't been there with you. I feel like I'm missing so much. I mean, I haven't seen you since you were just twenty-four weeks. Now you're thirty-one—so much has happened."
"We'll be together in a few hours, though. And then everything will be good again." She pauses and then takes in a breath. "Ow. That was my rib."
"And John B.? How's he doing?"
"He's... John B.," she says, and I can hear the smirk in her voice. "A little stressed, a little overprotective. He keeps reading these parenting books and freaking out over every little thing."
I chuckle. "Like what?"
"Like if I'm laying out in the sun for too long, or if I'm drinking enough water, or if I'm doing anything that even has the possibility of worsening my abruption. The worst is when he catches me lying on my back."
"Oh, wow," I gasp dramatically. "How dare you?"
"I know!" she laughs. "I swear, if he had it his way, he'd build a fortress of pillows around me every night."
"Honestly? I'd pay good money to see that."
Sarah giggles but then quiets, her voice going softer. "He's trying so hard, Kie." I hear something deeper in her voice—something grateful, something overwhelmed.
"I know," I say gently.
She lets out a little breath. "It just makes me think about all the what-ifs, you know? Like, if things had been different. If my mom was still here, or if Ward wasn't, well, Ward."
I understand what she's really saying. If she had grown up with the kind of parents who made her feel safe and cherished, the way she and John B. are already trying to do for their daughter. "I get it," I whisper.
Sarah sniffs, just a little. "But I don't want to dwell on that because I do have people. I have John B., and I have you guys. And that's enough for me."
I smile, even as my chest aches. "Always."
"Always," she echoes.
"Well, sounds like things have been fun over there," I joke, getting up and walking to get in the bed.
"Oh, trust me, there isn't any fun going on. John B. and I tried to, you know, last night—never again."
"What happened?!"
She groans. "Well, first of all, I can barely move like I used to, so every position is terribly uncomfortable, and then, halfway through, I had a contraction. Full-on, breathtaking contraction."
I burst out laughing. "This cannot be laughing."
"Kie, I wish it wasn't," she states plainly. "And then, if it wasn't bad enough, she kicked really hard, and John B. got super freaked out. He said he felt like he was being watched."
I'm fully cackling now, rolling on the floor. "I wish I could've seen his face."
She giggles, but it isn't long before I catch something different, something new. It's almost a hesitation, like she's deciding whether or not to say something.
"Sarah?" I call, concerned.
"Kie?"
"What's up?"
She lies. "What? Nothing's up." I don't even say anything back. I know that, eventually, under the crushing weight of silence, she will break. And finally, she exhales. This time, when she speaks, her voice is smaller, more vulnerable. "I'm just so tired," she admits. "My back is killing me and I'm sad and my head hurts."
My heart squeezes. "That's a lot, Sar."
"I guess it's normal, though," she rushes to say, like she has to justify feeling the way he does. "I'm ready for her to be here, but I'm also totally not. I just feel like things are getting here too quickly, and we have nothing done. I feel like I'm running out of time."
"It's okay to feel that way," I soothe, wishing I could wrap her in a hug.
"And—" she pauses.
"And what?"
"No, nevermind."
"Sarah, what were you going to say?" I ask, pressing a little harder this time.
"It's nothing, really."
"You're lying!" I exclaim. My voice is playful, but I really am concerned.
"I'm not, Kie. I'm just ready for bed."
I huff, still not believing her, but I'll let her go for now. "Fine, but the second I see you, I'll know whether you're lying or not."
"Fine." Then I hear John B.'s voice from afar, loud and sweet.
"Sarah, honey, I set out your robe for a shower!"
"Thank you, JB," she responds, kissing him. "Okay, Kie, I gotta go."
"Alright. I love you, honeybee."
"I love you too, bye-bye." She hangs up quickly, and as sweet as the whole thing was, I can't stop thinking about the hesitation, the tension between us.
Something's up, and I will find out.
YOU ARE READING
what now? | outerbanks
Fanfiction'In his embrace, I feel myself start to cry. I don't even know why, but John B. notices and wipes the tears from my cheek. "It's over, Sarah. The chase is over." "Mhm." I nod through my tears, but the words mean nothing to me. "Hey, wha...
