Chapter Text
FLASHBACK — Six Months After the Divorce
The bedroom was quiet except for their breathing — uneven and soft, the only sound between them now that the rush was over. The sheets were tangled around Trina’s waist, Spencer’s arm draped heavy over her stomach like he still owned every piece of her.
She lay staring at the ceiling, feeling the heat of his skin against her side, her heart twisting at how natural it still felt.
He shifted closer, pressing his lips to her shoulder — soft, easy, like they hadn’t signed the divorce papers half a year ago.
“You should go,” she whispered, her voice so low it almost disappeared under the hum of the heater.
Spencer’s lips curved into a small, smug smile against her skin. “Mmm. You’ve said that before.” He kissed her shoulder again, like he didn’t believe her.
She let out a breath — not quite a laugh, but not angry either. “I mean it this time, Spencer.”
He lifted his head, propping himself up on his elbow to look at her. He looked so damn sure of himself — hair a mess, that lazy grin on his face like they were still twenty and tangled up in her dorm room after hours.
“You always say that,” he teased, brushing her hair back from her face. “Then you text me two nights later and—”
“Spencer.” Her voice sharpened — not mean, but sad. So sad it cracked through his stupid confidence like cold air under the covers.
He searched her eyes. “What?” he asked, quieter now.
She rolled onto her side to face him fully. “We can’t keep doing this. We’re divorced. We’re not… this anymore. We have to stop.”
He let out a short laugh — defensive, brittle. “So what, you’re just done? Just like that?”
“I have to be,” she whispered. “This… it makes it harder. You know it does.”
He reached for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers like muscle memory. “I know you. You’ll call. Or I’ll come over. You’ll let me in. We’re always gonna—”
“No.” Her eyes shimmered, but her voice stayed steady this time. “Not anymore, Spencer. I can’t move on if you’re still… here. You can’t either.”
He shook his head, lips parting like he wanted to argue — but she pressed her finger to his mouth, stopping him.
“It’s over. For real this time.” She leaned in and pressed one last soft kiss to his lips — an ending, not an invitation. Then she pulled away and rolled onto her back, blinking at the ceiling, willing her tears not to fall until he was gone.
Spencer lay there for a moment — silent, trying to swallow the ache in his throat. “Trina, please don’t do this. You know anytime you ask me to come over, I will. You know what that means, right? I hate that we ever signed those divorce papers. I should have fought harder for you. For us.”
She didn’t say anything. Just kept her back to him, her breath shaky but her resolve iron.
And then, without another word, Spencer slipped out of bed and dressed in the dark. She didn’t turn to watch him go. She just listened for the quiet click of the front door and told herself she’d be okay.
PRESENT DAY — ONE YEAR LATER
Spencer thought of that night often. The way her voice broke when she told him no more. The way she kissed him like it had to last the rest of their lives.
It never did.
He shook the memory off as the front door swung open — and there she was, standing in the soft glow of the porch light. Trina. God, all these years later, and it was still like seeing her for the first time. So damn beautiful it made his chest ache.
“Hey,” she said, her voice warm but careful — those gorgeous brown eyes he still dreamed about every night.
“Hey,” he said back, trying to play it cool, trying not to stare. Trying to look like he hadn’t thought about her every day for a year.
Trina turned her head and called over her shoulder, “Kids! Your dad’s here!”
Spencer shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, rocking back on his heels. “How’ve you been?” he asked, voice softer when it was just for her.
She tucked a stray curl behind her ear, not quite meeting his eyes. “I’ve been good. You?”
“I’ve been… better,” he admitted, his mouth twisting into a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
They stood there, awkward and familiar all at once. The words unsaid between them heavier than any luggage he could carry.
Then footsteps thundered down the hall — first Stephan, then Marcus, then the twins Kris and Krystal, all tumbling out the door.
“Hey, Dad!” Stephan said, clapping him on the shoulder like they were old buddies instead of father and son.
“Heyyy Dad!” the twins chorused, each wrapping him in a quick hug before immediately shoving each other out of the way.
“Hey, old man,” Marcus muttered with a grin, pulling him in for a quick side hug that smelled like cheap cologne and teenage bravado.
Then Kourtney Jade — KJ — leaned against the doorframe behind Trina, arms crossed, eyebrow cocked in that way she’d inherited straight from her mother.
“Mom,” she said loudly, mischief clear in her voice, “don’t you wanna ask Dad something?”
Trina whipped her head around so fast Spencer almost laughed. “Jade—” Her tone was all warning.
“No, KJ. I don’t,” Trina snapped, shooting her daughter a look that said drop it.
“What is it?” Spencer asked, looking from his ex-wife to his middle daughter, wary.
KJ just grinned like a cat who’d cornered a mouse. “Mom’s got a ceremony for her gallery next week. Real fancy. She doesn’t have a date.”
Trina’s eyes widened. “KJ—”
“A date, huh?” Spencer asked, biting back a smile. He ignored the way his pulse jumped just hearing it. “Big night?”
Trina glared at her daughter, cheeks flushed. “It’s nothing. I’m fine going alone.”
KJ didn’t miss a beat. “Or, you know, Dad’s standing right here. He looks good in a suit.”
The other kids stifled their laughter behind her — Kris actually had the nerve to high-five Krystal.
Spencer felt that old spark flicker in his chest — the same spark that never really died. He looked at Trina, head tilted, trying not to let too much hope show on his face.
“Yeah,” he said quietly, just for her. “You know I clean up nice.”
Trina folded her arms tighter, her eyes flicking between her kids and Spencer. “I’m fine. I can go alone. I don’t need a date.”
KJ shrugged, smirking. “Just saying. Dad’s right here, Mom.”
“I said I’m fine.” Trina’s voice had that soft finality that used to shut down a whole room. But her eyes darted to Spencer’s — just for a second — and something warm and old flickered there before she turned away.
She stepped up to hug Kris and Krystal, smoothing a hand over Marcus’s shoulder, kissing Stephan’s cheek like she still couldn’t believe they we're all taller than her now.
Trina’s frame was small compared to her towering kids — especially Spencer’s height, which they’d all inherited. She had to stretch on her tiptoes, arms reaching up just to ruffle their hair or pull them close in hugs. It was a little thing, but it made her smile every time.
“Alright. You guys have fun with your dad, okay? Be good, please.”
“Bye, Mom,” they chorused, piling out the door in a wave of backpacks and teenage chatter.
Trina shook her head, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. “KJ…” She softened, brushing a strand of hair behind her daughter’s ear. “You behave at your dad’s, okay? No stunts.”
KJ widened her eyes innocently—so much like her father it made Trina’s chest ache. “What? I’m not gonna do anything.”
She threw her arms around her mom’s waist, squeezing tight. “Love you, Mom.”
Trina hugged her back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you too, baby girl.”
Spencer lingered on the threshold, one foot outside, one inside. He looked at her like he was about to say something else — but instead he just leaned in, voice low so the kids wouldn’t hear.
“I love you,” he whispered.
It slipped out so naturally she didn’t even have time to stop herself. “I love you too,” she murmured back, her eyes wide the second the words left her lips.
They froze — both hearing it, both feeling it — then she caught her breath, stepped back, and shut the door softly in his face before he could say another word.
IN THE CAR
The kids had barely buckled up before KJ practically vibrated with smug excitement. “OMG — did you hear that?! Mom said I love you back to Dad.”
They all looked at each other, wide-eyed. “Yeah, we did,” Stephan said, his smirk growing. “Mom so meant it.”
Marcus snorted. “You can hear it every time she says Dad’s name.”
“Okay, that’s it,” KJ said, her grin wicked. “It’s time for us to get them back together.”
Kris and Krystal exchanged wide-eyed looks and nodded at the same time.
“I mean, they were still hooking up for, like, six months after the divorce,” KJ added dramatically, raising her brows at her brothers like duh.
Marcus choked on his soda. “What?!”
KJ rolled her eyes like her brothers were the dumbest creatures alive. “Are you serious? It was so obvious. Mom would act all weird and flustered whenever Dad was around. And Dad — please — he’d show up here at random times with that smug ‘I-just-got-some’ grin. You know the one.”
Kris gagged. “Gross, KJ!”
KJ ignored him. “One time, I woke up at, like, three in the morning to get water and guess who I caught sneaking out the back door? Shirt half buttoned, hair all messed up. And Mom pretended she didn’t know where my lunchbox was the next morning because she was too busy being distracted.” She threw in finger quotes for dramatic effect.
Marcus buried his face in his hands. “I did not need that visual.”
Stephan pointed a finger at her. “So basically, you’ve been spying on Mom and Dad hooking up?”
KJ shrugged, dead serious. “I didn’t want to, but somebody had to connect the dots. And guess what? Those dots spell: they’re still obsessed with each other.”
Krystal just snorted. “She’s not wrong.”
Krystal leaned forward from the backseat. “So what do we do? Sneak them into the same room? Candlelight dinner? Trip the breaker so they have to cuddle for warmth?”
Kris elbowed his twin. “This isn’t a movie, Krystal.”
“Doesn’t matter,” KJ said. “They need us to push them. Especially with that mom at school still trying to flirt with Dad.”
“Ew, Mrs. Lockhart? Hayley’s mom?” Marcus gagged. “She so desperate about it?”
Stephan just laughed. “Yeah — and Mom’s right there. If Dad wants anyone, it’s Mom. End of story.”
“Exactly,” KJ said, her grin pure mischief. “So… new plan. We get him back under her roof. We make it so easy they have to talk. No excuses.”
Kris frowned. “How do we even know Mom wants him back?”
The car fell quiet — then they all laughed at him at once.
“Oh Kris, you’re so cute,” KJ teased. “It’s obvious Mom still wants Dad. The way she talks about him? She brings him up more than us! And remember his birthday — Mom made his favorite gingersnap cookies for him. What is that if that’s not love?”
They all went silent for a beat. Kris just shrugged, half embarrassed. “Okay, okay. So… it’s agreed?”
They all nodded, conspirators to the end.
“Dad’s coming back,” Stephan said, grinning. “We’ll talk more at the house.”
And in the driver’s seat, Spencer couldn’t help the tiny smile tugging at his lips as he pulled away — KJ’s voice breaking through his thoughts.
“Didn’t Mom look pretty, Dad?”
“Gorgeous,” Spencer said softly. “She always does.”
A chorus of badly stifled giggles and I told you so looks bounced around the back seats. He ignored them — mostly.
He cleared his throat, turning the key in the ignition. “Seatbelts, everybody.”
Five clicks. Five matching grins. And in that quiet moment — Spencer couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, his kids were up to something. And maybe… he didn’t mind one bit.
SPENCER’S HOUSE
KJ dropped onto the couch, her eyes darting around at her siblings. “Okay, guys — part one of getting them under the same roof: operation dance bag.”
Stephan barely looked up from his phone. “And what’s the plan, criminal mastermind?”
KJ grinned wickedly. “I ‘forgot’ my dance bag at Mom’s. Desperately need it for practice tomorrow — Dad has to go get it. While he’s gone… we make this place look like a disaster zone. Burst pipe, flooded laundry room — whatever.”
Stephan lowered his phone, a slow grin spreading across his face. “That’s… actually not a terrible idea.”
Marcus raised a brow. “So we’re sabotaging Dad’s house now?”
“It’s for a good cause!” KJ shot back.
The twins exchanged an excited look. “Okay, okay — let’s do it,” Kris said.
Just then, KJ threw herself back dramatically, voice going up a whole octave. “Dadddd! Dadddddd!”
Spencer appeared from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel, worry etched across his face. “Baby girl, what’s wrong?”
She sat up, all wide eyes and fake panic. “I forgot my dance bag at Mom’s. I need it for practice tomorrow — please, can you go get it? Pretty please?”
Spencer hesitated. Alone with Trina again. The thought of seeing her — that house, that memory — sent a shiver down his spine. Too close. Too soon. But his baby girl’s eyes were big enough to break him in half.
“Stephan, you go get it.”
Stephan raised his hands. “Nope. KJ doesn’t want anyone in her room — plus it’s on the top shelf of her closet. I can’t reach it. And you know Mom can’t reach it, she’s too short.”
Spencer chuckled despite himself, that old fondness slipping through. My beautiful, stubborn, short Trina.
“Fine,” he muttered, grabbing his keys off the counter. “Fifteen minutes. Don’t burn the place down. Here’s money for the pizza.”
He was out the door before he could change his mind — and the second it slammed shut, the living room exploded in cheers.
“Yes! Let’s go!” KJ pumped her fist.
Stephan shoved his phone in his pocket. “Okay, we don’t know how long we have — everybody, move. Let’s break stuff.”
“They’re probably gonna hook up,” Krystal added matter-of-factly.
“Eww, shut up,” Marcus groaned.
Stephan just smirked. “Hey, there’s five of us. How do you think we got here?”
“Steph! Stop! Ew ew ew ew—”
Their laughter bounced off the walls as they scattered — ready to wreck the place in the name of love.
TRINA’S HOUSE — NIGHT
Trina stood in her bedroom, staring at her reflection. The new dress hugged her hips in a way she hadn’t dared since her twenties — shorter than she’d usually wear, bolder than she’d let herself be in years. She smoothed her palms over the fabric, letting her hair spill over her shoulders.
“Ughhh…” she muttered, tugging at the hem. “Too much. Way too much.”
She turned to the side, checked the back. Part of her — the part she’d buried under five kids and a divorce — wanted to feel good again. Wanted to see if she still had it.
A knock at the front door made her jump. Her heart stuttered. She wasn’t expecting anyone. She padded barefoot down the hallway, tugging the dress down once more, and cracked the door open.
And there he was. Spencer. Lit by the porch light like something out of a memory she couldn’t shake.
For a second, he just stared — then he let out a breath like he’d been holding it the whole drive over.
“Wow,” he said, eyes sweeping over her like he was seeing her for the first time all over again. “You look… beautiful.”
Heat climbed up her neck. She crossed her arms over her stomach, suddenly hyperaware of every inch of bare skin. “Thank you,” she said softly, ducking her head before meeting his eyes again. His smile — that crooked, familiar smile — caught her off guard, and for a moment, she forgot to breathe.
“What are you doing here?”
He lifted his hands in surrender, that crooked grin playing at the corner of his mouth — the one that always turned her to mush. “KJ left her dance bag. She said she desperately needs it for practice tomorrow. Sent me on a rescue mission.”
Trina groaned, rolling her eyes. “I told that girl ten times not to forget it. Come in — it’s in her closet.”
She turned, leading him down the hall. He followed close behind, trying not to look at the sway of her hips or the bare skin he’d memorized long ago. She dragged the step stool over, climbing up to reach the bright purple bag tucked behind old blankets.
“Trina—” Spencer stepped forward just as she wobbled. He caught her around the waist before she could fall, pulling her back against his chest. For a second, neither of them moved. Her hair brushed his jaw, her heartbeat drummed against his palm.
They stayed there, breathless — pressed together like no time had passed at all.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice trembling just enough for him to feel it in his chest.
“No problem,” he murmured, his hand still warm on her waist. For a heartbeat, it felt like before he planned their New York trip back in their 20s— no kids, no papers, no empty side of the bed.
Trina giggled, still caught in his arms. “You gonna put me down, or…?”
Spencer blinked, realizing how tightly he’d held her. “Oh — yeah. Sorry.” He let her slide gently to the floor.
She handed him the bag, their fingers brushing in a spark that made both of them look away too fast. “Here you go.”
“Thanks,” he said — but didn’t move. Just stood there, bag dangling from his fingers, looking at her like maybe he’d never really left.
They walked down the stairs together, shoulders brushing in the narrow hallway — neither daring to lean away.
At the bottom, Trina turned, hair falling over one shoulder. “So, um…” she said, voice small but braver then she felt. “I was gonna order food. Open a bottle of wine. If you… wanna stay.”
Spencer’s chest tightened. God, yes. He tried to hide his grin. “Yeah. I’d love to.”
She let out a soft laugh, tucking a curl behind her ear. “The kids have probably demolished whatever you planned for dinner anyway. They won’t even notice you’re gone.”
He just smiled back at her — the dance bag forgotten at his side, a thousand memories flooding his mind all at once.
Trina ordered some Chinese takeout and opened a bottle of wine. At first, the silence between them felt heavy—awkward, like they hadn’t been alone since that last time she told him it was over. But Spencer shook the thought away: She asked me to stay. That has to count for something.
The wine eased the tension, loosening there smiles and softening the space between them. Slowly, they fell back into old rhythms—laughing like they used to, chatting about work, the kids, and how the last six months had felt like a lifetime.
The food arrived, and with it, a second bottle of wine.
“God, these last six months…” Trina said, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye. “It’s been something.”
Spencer chuckled—that low, warm sound that made her chest flutter like it always had. “Yeah. I can tell. Still the same Trina.”
She nudged his knee playfully. “So… Jade tells me there’s some mom at school who’s been flirting with you.”
He groaned, tipping his head back against the couch. “Oh, her? She’s nobody. Trust me—I’ve only got my heart set on one person.”
Trina’s laugh caught in her throat. Her eyes flicked up to his. “Oh? And who’s this lucky girl?”
Spencer froze for a moment, the confession hanging just out of reach. Then he shrugged, looking away. “It’s no one. Really.”
Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. I wish he still wanted me, she thought, then pushed the idea aside. She took a careful sip of wine to hide the sting. “Right. No one.”
Spencer studied her face in the soft lamplight. “What about you?” he asked gently. “Anyone new?”
She let out a dry laugh, swirling her glass. “Well, I tried. Went on a date last month. Total disaster.”
“Why?”
She shrugged, cheeks flushing. “I mentioned the five kids… and he asked if—quote—my stretch marks were insane.”
Spencer’s mouth fell open. “What?! Who says that?”
Trina forced a laugh. “It’s not a big deal—”
“Yes, it is.” His voice sharpened—fierce, protective. Before he thought, his hand reached out, resting on her hip. His thumb traced the bare skin beneath her dress. “Those stretch marks… this body carried five of my kids. Do you know how beautiful that is?”
Her breath caught. Her lips parted. Her eyes widened. “Spencer…”
He held his gaze steady, his hand warm against her skin. “No one gets to talk about you like that. Ever.”
She looked down, suddenly aware of how close they were—how his fingertips brushed her, how her heartbeat thundered in her chest. The touch felt like home, like love and safety—but it also scared her.
They both froze—the air between them thick, almost too heavy to breathe. Spencer’s hand lingered, as natural as if it had never left.
Trina’s breath caught in her throat, Spencer’s touch still warm on her skin. She swallowed hard, heart hammering. “I think you should go,” she whispered.
He froze, then pulled his hand back like he’d been burned. “Trina, I’m sorry. I went too far.” His laugh was small and forced, without reaching his eyes. “I should… I’m gonna go.”
She didn’t stop him. Couldn’t trust herself to. She sat there on the couch, arms wrapped tight around herself, listening to the front door click shut—and the silence that followed cut deeper than any fight they’d had.
Outside, Spencer practically stumbled to his car, muttering under his breath. “Stupid. Idiot. Too much, too fast… what were you thinking?” His knuckles turned white gripping the steering wheel as he fought to steady his pulse before pulling out.
When he got home, anger simmered just beneath the surface, ready to explode. But the moment he stepped inside, all five kids stood waiting in the entryway—KJ front and center, arms crossed, brows raised.
“You’re home already?” she asked, suspicion clear in her voice.
Spencer forced a laugh, gesturing around. “Yeah. Well… I live here, remember?”
Before he could say more, a steady drip-drip-drip sounded somewhere it shouldn’t. He stepped forward, sock squelching in a growing puddle by the baseboard.
“What the—?” He spun to face Stephan. “What happened?”
Stephan winced, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh… the pipe under the sink kinda burst. We tried to fix it—”
Spencer’s eyes darted from the water damage to the torn cabinet to his soaked socks. “You tried? Jesus—”
Meanwhile, back at Trina’s, she paced her living room in the too-short dress, heart still pounding.
God, his smell… She pressed her palm to her cheek where his lips had brushed her skin. His touch. Everything.
She sank onto the couch, burying her face in her hands. “He’s always had this stupid spell on me. I’ll never be able to move on—but do I even want to?”
A frustrated groan escaped as she flopped back into the cushions. “The way I just threw him out. The way I’ve been pushing him away for a whole year. He probably doesn’t want me anymore.”
She hated how true it felt. She hated how wrong it felt too.
THE NEXT MORNING — 6 AM
Trina squinted through the peephole, half asleep, then cracked the front door open—only to find all five of her kids lined up on the porch like little conspirators… and Spencer standing behind them, an overnight bag slung over his shoulder, looking like a man who’d already lost the fight before it began.
She blinked, bracing herself against the doorframe in her old sweats and a paint-splattered t-shirt—her true mom uniform. She tugged at her messy bun as if it could hide how undone she felt.
If only she knew, Spencer thought. She’s never looked more like home than she does right now.
“What’s going on?” Trina asked, crossing her arms, trying to sound more awake—more in control—than she felt.
The kids shuffled their feet, pointedly avoiding her gaze as if they weren’t totally behind this.
Trina looked at Spencer—really looked. The overnight bag, the stiff shoulders, the exhausted eyes that still made something twist in her chest.
“So?” she pressed evenly. “What exactly happened?”
Spencer let out a tired laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Pipe burst in the kitchen. Ceiling caved in the laundry room right after. Insurance wants to gut the whole main floor. Contractor says eight weeks, minimum.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And a hotel?”
He met her eyes. He didn’t have to say it—the kids. The chaos. They’d hate it.
Behind him, KJ peeked around Stephan’s shoulder, smirking like the cat who ate the canary. “So… you moving in or what, Dad?”
Spencer sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Hotels are fine for a night or two. But Stephan’s home from college for the summer, Marcus is always over anyway—and the twins have summer activities. It’s just… easier here. For them.”
Trina leaned her shoulder against the doorframe, studying him like she could still read every line on his face. Same Spencer. Same eyes. Same ache she’d spent a year trying to bury.
“Fine,” she said stubbornly. “For them.”
Damn, what a turn-on, he thought. Her stubbornness was one of the things he loved most about her.
He nodded, but his eyes didn’t lie. It wasn’t just for the kids. It never was. I’m getting my wife back, he thought quietly.
Behind him, Kris elbowed KJ, whispering loud enough to be heard, “Told you it’d work.”
Trina dragged her gaze from Spencer and side-eyed her daughter. “Kourtney Jade Cassadine, if this was your idea—”
KJ just grinned, unapologetic. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mom.”
As Trina turned back into the house, trying to pretend her heart wasn’t hammering in her chest, the kids lingered on the porch just a second longer. KJ shot her brothers and sister a wicked grin, bouncing on her heels.
“Operation Under the Same Roof has officially begun,” she whispered.
Stephan smirked, Marcus rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, and the twins giggled, bumping shoulders.
“They’ll be back together in no time,” Kris said.
Krystal nodded, all mischief. “They don’t even stand a chance.”
And with that, the Cassadine kids filed inside behind their dad — conspirators to the end, ready to bring their parents home.