Hanging By a Thread | Scömìche MPreg COMPLETED

chapter eleven// your son devin

"I'll go first, seeing as I was the first to open my mouth," the woman who had made the 'tall blonde and emo' comment nodded, "my name is Lillian Peters. This is my husband, Joshua Peters and our son Devin is one of the supposed bullies of your child."

"Supposed? Did you see our kids?" Scott gasped, gently nudging Mitch out of the way so he could tower over the blonde woman, "they were sobbing. You better have a god damn good excuse as of to why your son Devin was only a 'supposed' attacker."

"I've heard all about the divorce, Grassi-Ho- oh," she let out a giggle, "anyways, I have heard how bad of a person it made you. Someone like you wouldn't be too opposed to taking out a bit of frustration on poor little Brady, would they?"

Eyes went to Scott, and the little voice came back.

Did you? Did you? Did you?

No. No. No.

"You can assume all you want, but I would never lay a finger on any child, much less one of my own. Don't try to excuse your shitty parenting by bringing up mine," he spit, "kids tend to learn from their parents. Believe me when I say: I know what abuse does to people."

"Okay, fine. Devin did 'attack' your son, but it was all in good motives. Trying to slap whatever homosexual nonsense you and emo put into his brain."

"Call my god damn husband 'emo' one more time and see how fucking quickly I throw you out of my house," Scott was seething with anger by now, both adults practically having steam come out of their ears.

"Only speaking the truth, honey."

Something snapped in him, the urge to defend Mitch, the urge to protect him.

"Mitch told you the moment that you walked into this house that any homophobic comments like that would be an immediate call to the school. Your children will get punished for how they treated our's. It is extremely disrespectful and downright ridiculous that you would use all of our sexual preferences as an excuse for our children getting beaten and ridiculed. If you had a problem with us, that's who you should've taken it up with."

That's not even the end of it. Believe me, honey, if you think that you can waltz into my house and insult the man that has created the best nineteen years of my life, you've got another thing coming. You and your friends can grab your kids and go, because this discussion is entirely over. Don't be surprised when the school calls you."

---

Jacqui, Riley, and Nick left soon after all the other parents did, taking Brady with them for a sleepover.

Scott was stretched out on the couch, his face nestled into the arm of the furniture while Mitch was connecting his phone to the television so he could play music on the speakers.

"Thanks for letting me stay over, Scott," Mitch spoke quietly, barely audible over the song How Long Will I Love You.

"Always."

"Can I sit with you?" he felt a rush of terror and long forgotten nervousness around his ex-husband, the type he got when they were first dating.

"You look stunning tonight, Mitch. God- had Nicole told me you'd look this fantastic I would've done a little better of a job dressing up."

"Don't worry about it, silly. I-" he didn't know what to say, so dumbstruck by the compliment that he was skittish and quiet until the waiter came. Even then he had a hard time making out sentences.

"Of course," Scott pulled his legs into his chest and nestled himself into the corner of the couch, but leaving one arm outstretched for Mitch to tuck himself into.

"Hey, Scott?"

"Yes, Mitch?"

"I missed this, and you. Specifically you, and this. You holding me, yeah. I miss this," his words were messy, choppy and heartfelt.

"Do you know this song?"

Scott had taken Mitch to their old high school football field on their fourth date. It was freezing, and midnight, (they were kind of trespassing) but he'd insisted on going. He had his phone playing music, the soft voice of the female singer causing Scott to spin around the field with pure joy.

'How long will I love you?

As long as the stars above you, and longer if I can.

How long will I need?

As long as the seasons need to follow their plan.'

"Do you know how much I've missed you, Mitch? How lonely it was when you and Brady weren't here?" Scott whispered, wiping a stray tear away from his cheek, "I don't want to victimize myself but- you weren't the only one suffering. I was alone for five years, without my best friend, my husband, my son. I was alone with the constant guilt that I put this on myself, and I hurt you, and I don't deserve an apology."

'How long will I be with you?

As long as the sea is bound to wash upon the sand.

How long will I want you?

As long as you want me too, and longer by far.'

"Of course I know this song, it's so beautiful, who wouldn't want to know it?"

"I don't think people choose what they want to know, Scotty," Mitch shook his head with a small laugh.

"You know what I don't want to know, Mitch?"

"What don't you want to know, Scott?"

"When you'll leave me. It'll happen, I know it will. You'll get so done with me, even if you love me, you'll leave me."

"What? You're talking nonsense. I'll never leave you, I promise. As angry as I get, I will never leave you."

"I'm sorry, Scott," Mitch turned his head, "I'm so sorry. I broke my promise, I know I did. I said I'd never leave you and I did, I left you all alone."

"It's okay," he frowned, resting his forehead against Mitch's, "you don't have to say you're sorry, I don't deserve it." His eyes were droopy and tired, begging for sleep. Mitch quietly moved out of the way, letting Scott stretch out on the couch.

"Goodnight, Scott. I l- I'm sorry."

Pause.

"I love you and I'm sorry."