Mama always told me that I should play nice

She didn't know you when she gave me that advice

I'm through, with you

You're one bridge I'd like to burn

Bottle up the ashes, smash the urn

I'm through with you, la ti da

I don't wanna be your just for fun

Don't wanna be under your thumb

All I wanna be is done, done

-Done., The Band Perry

There's a really special kind of bitter a man can accrue when he's realized just how badly he fucked up, and it's the kind that makes a man's eye twitch. It's the kind that makes a man's stomach roil with revulsion at one's own self and mistakes, the kind that makes a man's fists clench under a table, the kind that lets you know you'll be regretting this for a long time.

That's the kind that's currently spread over Ricky Weavers face.

Kim Crawford, his ex, didn't seem to have a care in the world about whatever emotion he might be feelings, however. She looked pleased as punch, settled in a booth with her Southern lover.

A man with less self-confidence than Weaver, of course, might have felt intimidated by Jackson Brewer. He was a monster of a man, after all. Over six foot with shoulders broad enough to carry any burden. A strong chest, slim vee of his waist leading to powerful legs, obscenely charming moles and deep brown eyes that somehow managed to convey both strength and vulnerability in their chocolate depths. The thick, burnished bronze brunette hair that brushed his shoulders, spilling out from beneath a tan Stetson.

A man with less self-confidence than Ricky Weaver might think twice about interacting with the beautiful blonde beside Jackson Brewer. Jack's strong arm wound around her waist as he nuzzled her cheek, causing her to laugh and smile with the happiness being with Jack clearly gave her. Blonde curls, brightened by their exposure to the Georgian sun, shone in a side braid, a pink wildflower matching the shade of her shirt. Honey gold eyes sparkled in the light coming in through the windows behind the booth, perfect pink lips spread in a beam that all who saw it could feel blessed by.

Unless you were Ricky Weaver, of course. Kim Crawford's smile did not bless him, but fill him with anger and regret. Jack Brewer's shoulders did not fill him with awe, but with barely regarded fear and rage. The couples happiness did not warm his heart, but reflect in the empty cage of his chest where a soul ought to be. And for these very reasons, the dirty blonde haired man stood up from his chair and made his way over to confront his ex.

For Richard Weaver was not a man with low self-confidence. He was a worm with blind faith in his own superiority of every other member of the human race, and at the root of his personality was a thick stream of stupid that he would probably never be able to shake.

It was that streak of stupid that caused him to not flinch when his eyes were caught by those of a beloved Georgian handyman, and locked in a gaze filled with disgust and steel-tipped anger. It was that streak of dull-witted foolishness that didn't cause his heart (or the organ that passed as one) to clench with fear when it wasn't the attractive male, but the gorgeous female who stood up to face him. And it was that innate sense of unintelligence that gave him disbelief when Kim Crawford wound up and punched him square in the face.

"Ricky Weaver, I don't ever want to see your face again, you hear? I'm happy. I am beyond happy and loved in the life I am living now and your presence will do nothing but to ruin it. Your face is ugly, your spirit is ugly, your manner is ugly, and your existence is toxic. I never want to have to interact with you again. If you try to see me again I will not hesitate to call the police and get a restraining order on your small penis ass. My family will not hesitate to tell all of your business contacts about the crappy way you handle your personal life and horrible way you treat women. Goodbye, and good luck with your life. With a personality and a face like yours, you're going to need it."

Seeing Richard Weaver, the man I once thought I loved, sprawled on the floor in front of me with shock and anger in his eyes, one hand clenched to his nose to stop the blood that was spewing out of it, was such an invigorating experience I felt on top of the world. Jack's thumb was rubbing small circles into my waist as he stood at my back, his lowly murmured "that's ma girl" filling me with pride. The whole diner, filled with people who I'd grown to love in the past few months and who I considered extended family broke into applause. Mika and Jerry, peering from the kitchen, added in their support, and Milton came over to pat me on the shoulder.

"I should take care o'that nose, but she probably hasn't broken it. You'll be fine all by your own damn self." He remarked to the businessman in front of him.

"You can't – what the fuck do you think you're doing Kim? I'm your future. Not this hick and all his hillbilly friends. What makes you think you have the right to assault me in a public place without any warning and spout blatant, defaming lies about my character-"

"I saw you hit first." Piped up Molly Jefferson, one of the kids who I saw on a regular basis. Her four siblings, all of varying ages, nodded along with her.

"Bad man!" the youngest of them, Alan, said, and his siblings murmured in agreement.

"I do believe that unless you escort yourself off the premises, we might have a domestic violence case on our hands." Mayor Brown chimed in, pushing himself away from his food. He was such a sweetheart to me, and to everyone who knew him, but he was awfully protective. And as a former football player, his hulking stature and accusing eyes did not make him out to be the teddy bear we all knew him to be.

Ricky spluttered, scrambling to his feet, eyes filled with rage as he swung his head around, searching for a sympathetic face and not finding one. "Oh we can turn this into an interracial violence case just you watch, Kim you better come back to me-"

"EXCUSE me?" Helen Brown, the Mayor's wife, asked, one hand on her African-American husbands arm, voice filled with disbelief. "What did you just say?"

"We can forgive a lot of things, us Southern folk, but racism is not one of them. Too bad we already hate you." Miss Thompson told Ricky with much disdain. "Such a vile young man. Such a shame."

"It would really do ya better to haul ass up out of this lovely establishment." Jack told him, speaking up for the first time. I looked up at him and couldn't help but smile at the pride and warmth I saw in his face. I leaned up on my tiptoes and kissed him, deeply on the lips, holding onto his arm for support as he answered me enthusiastically. The sound of the Jefferson brood chorusing "ewwww" made me break away laughing.

I loved these people so much, and their support and protectiveness over me gave me such joy I didn't properly know how to express.

"Jack?" I asked him softly, ignoring Ricky's attempts to regroup himself. I placed a hand on my boyfriends chest and tilted my head, focusing imploring eyes on him. "Would you take out the trash?"

"With pleasure." He conceded, leaning down to kiss my forehead before stepping down and hauling Ricky up by his shirt collar. The townsfolk let out another cheer as Jack carried my ex-boyfriend out by his shirt to his car, waiting patiently as he drove away.

"Thank you so much for your support folks!" Mika called, clapping her hands and waving them in the air to signal everyones attention. "Pancakes on the house!"

Everyone laughed and smiled and then returned to their meals as though nothing had happened, and I sat back down in the booth with a small laugh and sigh. I hadn't known, those months ago, that having my car break down in the ass crack of nowhere would give me this full of a life to live but I'm so grateful for it I could burst. When the devastatingly handsome boyfriend comes back through the doorway with a huge grin on his face I just want to kiss every mole on his body, especially the ones in naughty places.

"I love you," I tell him, dragging him down by the shirt to press my lips into his. Jack kisses me back and licks my bottom lip for a moment, gorgeous chocolate eyes boring into mine.

"Do ya mean it?" the warmth of his southern burr washes over me like a wave and I nuzzle him, pressing a kiss to the bridge of his nose.

"You know I do."

"Good. Because it makes what I wanna do a whole'lot easier."

My heart just about stops because Jackson Brewer, handyman, orphan, and love of my life gets down on one knee before me. The whole diner again hushes up as the strong Georgian man clears his throat, drawing a black velvet box from his jeans pocket.

"I didn't know when I metya how much you would grow to mean to me. How much I'd love seein' ya dance and laugh, smile at me. Teaching' ya how ta shoot a gun, and smelling you and having you steal ma Stetsons. I can't imagine waking up and not having you by my side to kiss awake in the mornin' and I hope you feel the same way. Kimbr'ly Anne Crawford…would you marry me?"

The ring he reveals from the plush satin depths is diamond through and through, sparkling in the light of the diner, and a little bit, I'm convinced, with the glow of his love for me and mine for him. The gemstone in the center shines, and my heart hiccups a bit when I realize that it's a chocolate diamond.

"I, uh, know that all the fancy people only have white diamonds but I wanted it ta match your eyes-" is all he gets out before I'm throwing myself at him.

"Yes!" I cry out, kissing his neck and not giving a damn that everyone we know can see us. "Yes Yes Yes!" Jack grins bashfully and slides it on my finger while I'm still on top of him and I kiss him deeply, loving the feel of the weight on my hand.

I never imagined when I started running that I'd be running towards this, but I wouldn't change a single thing.

I know. I know. I'm a piece of shit and you guys deserve better…I haven't uploaded this in a little over a year. I've gone through some stuff (college girl now whoop whoop!) but the shock and surprise of still seeing reviews for this honestly fills me with such nostalgia even now. I read every single one of your requests for a new chapter and I'm so sorry that it took so long for this. Feel free to yell at me because I totally deserve it. If it makes anyone feel any better though, I will be doing a chapter with their wedding and an epilogue with their kids because, to be frank, you all are right. This does deserve an ending, and as it's author and 'parent', I must give it one.

Thank you for sticking with my story for this long. You deserve much better than my shitty ass self, but just know that it is only for you that I wrote this. You are my loyal fans and I love you.

Please don't hate me. J

Love,

Lil

PS. This is the ring I imagine Jack gave Kim ( . )