Ease
The day after
Karen stirred under the sheets, her body still humming from the night before. Her limbs ached in the best way, and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel alone in the silence of her apartment.
But the bed beside her was empty.
She blinked her eyes open, slowly adjusting to the low morning light filtering through the blinds. And there he was — Frank, half-dressed, back turned, pulling on his jeans.
He looked wrecked in that quiet way he always did. Hair mussed, scars catching the light. A storm behind his eyes.
“You leaving?” she asked, her voice low and sleep-rough.
Frank startled, like he didn’t expect her to be awake. He paused, fingers lingering at the button of his pants. “Wasn’t gonna wake you.”
“Why not?” she asked, sitting up, tugging the sheets to her chest. “Frank. Come here.”
He hesitated, just for a second, then stepped back toward the bed, jaw tight. “I wasn’t— I wasn’t gonna ghost you. I just...Never mind, It's nothing.”
Karen exhaled slowly. “It’s not nothing. Don’t pretend it is.”
He sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. “It meant a lot. That’s the problem.”
Silence stretched.
“I don’t—” he swallowed. “I don’t usually feel that close to someone without feeling like I’m gonna destroy it in the same breath.”
She nudged her knee against his arm. “You didn’t destroy anything.”
He looked at her then. Really looked. Like she was something too good to be true.
“I woke up,” he murmured, “and for a second I forgot all the shit. I just... laid there thinking you looked peaceful. And that scared the hell outta me. It was one of the first times I woke without noticing the lack of my wife next to me, or my daughter's toys under my foot. I didn't think about anything but you. I shouldn't get that right, Karen. I don't want to forget them.”
Karen touched his shoulder gently. “You won't. I won't let you. They are some of the best things about you. I would never want that part of you to leave. I also don't want you to forget that we deserve this. You deserve happiness. You don’t have to run just because something’s good.”
He let out a quiet breath. “You’re not scared of me?”
“No.” She said it without hesitation. “Not once.”
They didn't lie to each other. Karen had not once felt fear when around Frank, maybe not always safe, but never scared.
Frank nodded slowly, tension leaking out of his shoulders. “Okay.”
They sat in the quiet for a moment.
Then Karen scooted to the edge of the bed and held out her hand. “Come back.”
He hesitated — then took it.
They didn’t say much else. Didn’t need to. They curled up in the sheets, skin brushing skin, hearts racing for different reasons but slowly syncing into the same rhythm. It wasn’t the high of lust, not anymore. It was something steadier. Deeper.
The rest of the day moved forward in strange normalcy. Karen typed reports, took two meetings, answered exactly six emails that didn’t need her. But all the while, her brain circled back to the way he looked at her that morning — cautious, cracked open. Hopeful.
Frank walked through the streets like a man newly out of war. Every noise sharpened, every stranger suspicious. But he wasn’t numb. That was the change. He was alive. And it felt like a goddamn miracle.
Work passed in a haze. Karen kept typing sentences, then deleting them. Rewriting emails she didn’t care about. By lunch, she gave up pretending to be functional and took Riley out for coffee and a walk. They settled into a half-empty booth at a divey corner bar that did lunchtime burgers and played bad nineties R&B.
Riley stirred three sugars into her cold brew and said, “Okay. Spill.”
Karen laughed. “It’s not that serious.”
“You are glowing. You look like someone just confessed their love and gave you an orgasm.”
Karen snorted. “That’s oddly specific.”
“I know what I said.”
She sipped her drink, eyeing Riley over the rim. Riley was twenty-four, maybe twenty-five. Always in boots, even when it was hot. She wore layered necklaces, chipped nail polish, and didn’t give a single fuck about authority. Karen had liked her immediately.
“He’s just this guy I’ve been seeing,” Karen said, more careful than casual. She considered calling him Pete in front of Riley. But she doubted she would recognize him. Frank had a beard covering most of his recognizable features and nobody from California really knew the Punisher.
“Frank.” She decided on, proudly.
Riley’s smile faltered just for a second — blink-and-you-miss-it — but Karen didn’t catch it.
“He’s… intense,” Karen admitted. “But kind. In this really raw way.”
“You seeing him?” Riley asked casually.
Karen sipped her coffee. “I don’t know what we are. It’s complicated.”
“Complicated how?”
“I think he’s scared. Like… scared of having something real.”
Riley didn’t say anything. Just looked thoughtful, eyes scanning the shop for a beat too long.
“It's complicated. Of course it is,” Riley said, sipping. “If it were easy, you wouldn’t like him.”
She didn’t know how to say the thing out loud — that Frank made her feel again. That she kept catching herself imagining what it would be like to wake up next to him twice.
Riley didn’t push. Just let the silence settle, like she was used to people keeping their secrets.
“Where’re you from again?” Karen asked.
“New York. Foster system mostly. I bounced around Queens, Bronx, couple years in Brooklyn.” Riley’s voice had that edge — the hardness of someone who’d had to look out for herself too young.
Karen paused for a moment. She didn't consider the fact that Riley could have been from New York. Karen filed this information away and prayed Frank and Riley would never meet.
The circle was smaller than usual. A few empty chairs. Curtis sat at the front, watching as Frank took his usual seat.
Frank didn’t wait for the prompt this time.
“I told her,” he said, voice low but sure. “Karen.”
Curtis blinked, then smiled. “Told her what?”
“That I still wanted her. And I didn’t leave. I stayed. All night.”
Marcus let out a low whistle. “Well, shit.”
Frank ignored the comment. He didn't know how much he wanted to tell these people. He couldn't outright say "hey I had my head between Karen's warm thighs and I've never felt more at complete and safe in my life".
So instead he said, “We didn’t even… it wasn’t even sex. Not all the way. But it felt… more.”
“You’re not used to things meaning something,” Curtis said gently.
“No,” Frank agreed. “And now that it does, I keep waiting for it to blow up.”
“Do you want it to?”
Frank’s eyes flickered. “No. I just… don’t know how to be this version of me with her. The one who’s not always bleeding or hunting someone.”
He was less cautious with his words now that he knew everyone in the group and they knew him. Frank Castle, not Pete Castligone.
“That version deserves love too, Frank.”
Frank looked down, hands clasped. “I’m scared I’ll drag her into something she can’t come back from.”
“You won’t,” Curtis said, firm. “Because you’re thinking about it now. That’s growth.”
The group nodded in quiet solidarity. Even Marcus stayed serious.
“You’ve done the work, man,” Curtis added. “Now you gotta let yourself have good things.”
Later that night, the bar buzzed with low laughter and clinking glasses. Karen leaned over the table, half a margarita in, and laughing at something Riley said about their supervisor’s tragic cargo pants.
“You ever think about quitting and just selling drugs?” Riley joked.
Karen grinned. “Only every Tuesday.”
They were mid-laugh when a man approached the table. Tall, button-up shirt unbuttoned one too many, the kind of guy who thinks confidence makes up for bad cologne.
“Hey,” he said, eyes sliding over Karen like she was on the menu. “Mind if I sit?”
“Yes,” Karen said, polite but firm. “We’re good.”
He didn’t move. Just smiled wider. “You sure? I’m great company.”
Riley stiffened, eyes narrowing. Karen gave him another hard look.
“We’re not interested,” she said. “Move along.”
The man reached out, hand brushing her shoulder. It was subtle, but the grip lingered too long.
Before Karen could push him off, a voice cut clean through the noise.
“Step away from her.”
The man turned, confused, only to freeze at the sight of Frank.
Frank didn’t look angry. He didn’t raise his voice. He just stood there, still and calm and absolutely not fucking around. His eyes were cold. The kind of cold that made men think twice.
The guy stammered something, hands up. “Didn’t mean anything, bro—”
Frank took one slow step forward.
The guy got the message. He backed off fast, muttering, disappearing into the crowd.
Karen exhaled, heart thudding. Riley watched, silent, wide-eyed.
Frank turned to them, jaw tight. “You okay?”
Karen nodded, stunned. “Yeah. He just— He touched me. I didn’t like it.”
“I know,” Frank said. “I saw.”
Riley was still staring at him, something unreadable in her face. But she didn’t say a word.
Karen blinked at him. “What are you doing here?”
He looked sheepish. “I was nearby. Thought I’d stop by... make sure you got home safe. Wasn’t gonna interrupt.”
For a second, she didn’t know how to feel. But then she looked at him — really looked — and saw it wasn’t control. It wasn’t possessive. It was care. Unpolished and anxious and clumsy, but real.
And somehow... she didn’t mind it.
Riley cleared her throat. “I’m gonna call it a night.”
Karen stood. “You sure?”
“Yeah,” Riley said, still watching Frank like he was a ghost. “I’m good. You two take care.”
As she walked out, Karen glanced at Frank. “Do you want to come over?”
He didn’t answer. Just reached for her hand, gently.
They walked Trouble when they got back, the big dog trotting happily between them, leash loose, tail high.
Inside, the kitchen lights were low. Karen turned to pour water, but Frank stopped her with a hand on her hip. She sighed and leaned into his touch. She could feel his chest was bear and she turned to see him wearing those grey sweats she wanted to rip off every time he wore them. She looked into his eyes as he laid both of his hands on her waist. She lifted her arms to gently lay on his shoulders and her lips found his. Soft, slow. Then a little harder. She leaned into it, hands at his chest, his mouth familiar and new all at once.
She paused and noticed they were swaying together. She smiled and looked into his eyes, "Can this be considered dancing?"
"You like to dance or something?"
The truth was, no. Karen did not find much pleasure in dancing. But with his arms on her waist and his lips so close to hers, she was finding a small appreciation.
"Maybe with you."
He smiled and laid a kiss on her lips before pulling her slower,
"I'll dance with you anytime, sweetheart."
She smiled and her head found his shoulder.
This was a feeling she hadn't experienced before. Complete ease. Their lives weren't easy, far from it actually. But she found herself not worried about anything other than wanting to stay in this moment forever.
She noticed their breathing was in sync and he began humming something quietly. She wanted to say something, but she didn't want him to stop.
So Karen and Frank swayed in her kitchen, leaving small kisses on each other and feeling nothing but peace.