Outside Work We... •[TNN One-shots]•

Returned •|| MARJOREECE ||•

Prompt: Something was given back to Reece.

Saturdays were supposed to be their rest day.

A day where they didn't have a care for the world outside the four walls of their house.

A day where they spend way too long exchanging sleepy but love-filled kisses in bed, wrapped tightly in each other's arms. 

They eventually peeled themselves out of bed, tangled and laughing, brushing their teeth side by side like they'd done a thousand times before. Breakfast was lazy— coffee brewing while Marjorie perched on the counter eating toast straight from the toaster. Reece had one sock on and no real plan for the day, and that was exactly how he liked it.

"I just need to grab the parcel from the postbox," Marjorie said, already slipping on his hoodie instead of her own. "Be right back."

He hummed from the kitchen, barely looking up as the door creaked open.

And then—

"Reece?"

Her voice was quieter. Not alarmed, but... uncertain.

He turned. She was standing just inside the doorway now, holding a small, square box in both hands like it might fall apart if she moved too quickly.

"This was on the step. It's for you."

The handwriting on the label was painfully familiar.

His heart stuttered.

Not a package. Not random.

Marjorie didn't move, her fingers curling tighter around the edge of the package. "My darling," she said again, softer now, like she was trying not to break the moment. "Did you— did you order something?"

He was already walking toward her, but his breath caught when he saw what she was holding.

No.

He hadn't seen that handwriting in years.

He hadn't thought about that name— her name— in so long.

And he hadn't told Marjorie. Not because he was hiding it, he told himself, but because it never seemed... relevant. Not anymore.

But now it was on their doorstep.

"Do you want to open it?" she asked.

He swallowed. "No. But I think I have to."

They moved back to the kitchen table, Marjorie placing her hand on his own for support... Even though she didn't know what she was supporting him for.

Inside the cardboard box sat a velvet jewellery box, old but carefully kept, and a letter in a cream envelope, his name written in looping cursive across the front.

Reece sat with the envelope in his hands, unmoving.

He didn’t open it right away.

Marjorie stayed silent, fingers still resting on his, but her gaze flicked down to the letter. Her mind was a whirlwind, trying not to guess, not to assume— but the weight of the air between them was speaking louder than words.

He slid a finger under the seal and pulled the letter free.

The paper was thick. Handwritten. Intimate.

He cleared his throat, once.

Then he began to read.

"December 04, 2023

Reece,

If you’re reading this, I guess I finally found the courage to send it.

I don’t know where you are, or who you are anymore. I don’t know if you still take your coffee with honey instead of sugar, or if you still leave the window open even when it rains. Maybe you don’t even live in the same house. Maybe you’ve built a new life, far away from the one we started together."

Reece's lips parted slightly, like he might say something. But nothing came. His eyes skimmed the page, slower now.

Marjorie felt it like a pulse— this shift in him. A quiet break.

"But I know one thing.

I would still fall in love with you.

If I saw you on the street again, a stranger in a crowd— my heart would recognize you before my eyes could. I would fall in love with you over and over again, in every version of this life, in every timeline. No matter how much time passes. No matter where you are. No matter who you’ve become.

Because you’re mine. You always were."

A muscle jumped in his jaw. He blinked hard.

She watched him closely, saying nothing.

There was a flicker of something behind his eyes. Not regret. Not longing. Something else. Something she couldn’t name.

And that terrified her.

"You can tell yourself you’ve changed. That you’re not that man anymore. That you’ve healed, grown, moved on. But you can’t tell me that.

You can’t tell me you’re not my husband.

Because you always will be. And I’ll wait. Even if I’m waiting forever.

~J.V.A"

He folded the letter with more care than he meant to.

His hands trembled slightly.

Marjorie’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Reece… who is she?”

He didn’t look at her.

He just said, “My ex-wife.”

[A/N: I'm back! :) Do we want a part two or no?]