Jon POV (November 1st)

If the weather was any indication of how Jon's visit would pan out...he was fucked.

Rain pelted the windows of his jet as they circled Newark airport, turbulence rocking the plane with each rumble of thunder. Jon rubbed his temple and inhaled deeply. Why did Jersey always have to be a rough landing?

What he wouldn't give to be back in California, enjoying a nice calm morning by the pool with Richie. Raiden would be off to school, leaving them alone with nothing but time.

But he had a job to do and a family to take care of. A family that deserved to know the truth. And a wife he owed this face-to-face.

"Mr. Bongiovi, we're approaching the runway," the captain called over the PA system. "Please prepare for landing." Jon took a deep breath and tightened his grip on the armrests. The plane lurched forward, the wheels screeching against the tarmac as the plane finally landed.

As soon as the signal returned to his phone, he dialed Dorothea's cell number. Four rings... before her voicemail cut in. He tried again. Straight to voicemail. She had to have turned it off. "How fucking mature," he griped to himself.

Opening the message app, Jon pulled up the family group chat that he had with all the kids and typed out a quick message.

I'm calling a family meeting. I know it's short notice, but I need to talk to you all. Pls be at the big house as soon as you can. This can't wait. Love Dad xxxx

Jon read it once before hitting the green send button without hesitation and within moments, his babies had responded with confirmation that they'd be there.

The jet had barely come to a stop when he grabbed his carry-on and stood at the door, waiting impatiently for it to be opened before he alighted from the plane, Matt waiting for him with an umbrella. "Welcome home, brother!" The brothers threw their arms around each other and exchanged pleasantries. "Why don't we go visit Mom and Dad first? Mom's bursting to see you."

Jon shook his head and said with a sigh, "I have to take care of the kids and Dot first...if I can track her down. She's refused my calls all morning."

"Can you blame her?"

"God, not you too," Jon groaned, dropping his head back. "I thought you were gonna remain the neutral party?"

"I said I would listen to you both," Matt corrected, gesturing to the car. "I never said I wouldn't call you on your bullshit. Get in."

"You may be bigger than me, asshole," Jon growled. "But that doesn't mean I can't still whoop your ass, little brother."

Matt snorted and slid into the driver's seat. "I don't want you anywhere NEAR my ass. That's what Sambora's for. So...home first? Where are we going?"

"Home," Jon replied. "I need to see my kids first, nothing else until I've spoken to them. Mom and Dad can wait for a little while."

Matt sped off the tarmac into noon traffic on the parkway. Jon slumped in the backseat, attempting to ignore the heated glances his brother was giving him in the rearview mirror. He watched as they whipped past slower cars, Matt weaving in and out of traffic smoothly.

They were quiet for most of the hour-long drive to Red Bank, the congestion of passing from North to South Jersey making Jon feel trapped. The same way his marriage did.

"You should have seen Raiden with his little friends all dressed up. They had so much fun," he said, finally unable to bear the silence any longer.

"Can I just ask one question about all this?" Matt asked after a long silence. Jon nodded with a grunt. "What were you missing? There had to be something to make you start a second family."

"Love in a marriage," Jon answered quietly. "Dot's been pushing herself away for years. I simply gave her the space she needed. And I'm glad I did."

"Then I won't say anything else," Matt promised and pulled up to the house gate. He punched in the code and the gates opened, revealing a large riverfront home as they drove up the tree-lined driveway.

"That'll be a first," Jon chuckled, needing to lighten the mood. He saw Steph, Jesse and Jake's cars. But Dorothea's Jeep was nowhere in sight. "Damn it," he cursed softly. "Matty, do me a favour, while I talk to the kids, can you call the Soul Kitchen and see if she's there?"

Jon jumped from the backseat without waiting for an answer, and slammed the door shut before walking up to his home. He hesitated for a fraction before punching in the access code and stepping inside the large foyer. It was quiet, too quiet. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it by the door, toeing off his leather boots. The main living room looked untouched. The kitchen had an almost isolated feel.

It wasn't until he peeked in the family den that he found where the kids were gathered. Steph and Jesse sat on one of the plush sofas, phones in hand, Romeo and Jake in a heated video game battle.

"My babies," he said loudly, four pairs of eyes looking over at him. Steph and Jesse rose from their seats to hug their Dad, tense smiles plastered on their faces.

"Mom's not here," Steph told her Dad. "How was...California?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you all about," Jon replied, hugging his daughter.

Romeo, however, was the one who allowed his distaste to break through. "Remembered us, huh?"

His sibling's faces changed to pained expressions. "Romy, you know I couldn't ever forget you and-."

"We're not dumb, Dad," Romeo snapped, tossing down his controller. "Mom told us. How you started a second family and said fuck us!"

"Romy!" Steph hissed at her younger brother. "We agreed we'd let Dad speak for himself, remember?"

Jon inhaled a steadying breath and kissed Steph on the side of her head. "How about we all sit down? Turn off the game, boys...please." He sat down in his chair, Dad's chair, the one that oversaw the whole room, and waited until he had everyone's attention, reluctant or otherwise.

The kids took up both sofas and watched their Dad hesitantly. "Do we get to at least ask questions?" Jake asked.

"You can ask all the questions you want...after I'm done talking," Jon corrected in a fatherly tone. "First of all, I never once forgot about you four. You're the lights and loves of my life. But yes...there is someone else in the picture. Two someones, actually. Your Uncle Richie...he's back in my life but...not just as a bandmate. Things have happened...romantically, progressively...over the last few years."

"Years?" Steph asked, her voice unable to hide her emotions.

"Yes...years," Jon confirmed. "And he...well...he adopted a child who was orphaned."

"That kinda sounds like a lame story, Dad," Romeo said.

"You remember your Uncle David's assistant? The one with the long brown hair?" The kids nodded. "Well...she had a child with David...but as you know, they've both passed on. The child, Raiden, was entrusted to Richie upon ."

"So...this has been going on for years and you never told us?" Jesse asked. "I mean we knew shit was bad with Uncle Lema but...that's all just really fucked up."

"Richie and me...we go back a long, long way," Jon said, attempting to find the right words that would explain their complicated lives. "But mainly as friends, maybe sometimes as lovers...it wasn't until recently that we...couldn't deny the fact that we wanted to be together. Your mom and I...I don't want to speak badly against your mom coz she gave life to you all...but we've grown apart--"

Romeo snorted derisively. "You fucked around and Mom found out. No need to sugarcoat it for us, Dad," The once affectionate word dripped with disdain. "We're not toddlers anymore."

"You're right, Romy," Jon replied, looking at his son with a mix of sadness and shame. "But that's not the whole story. Richie and I care about each other deeply. We care about Raiden as well. And we want you all to get to know each other better. We want you all to be part of one big family."

The room fell silent as the kids processed the information. Steph was the first to speak, her voice quiet but firm."It's going to take a lot for us to accept all of this, Dad. But we want to try."

Jon nodded, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders. "That's all I ask, baby. We'll take things slow, but we want you to know that Richie and I will always be here for you. We love you all so much. And...and I'm just sorry that I hurt your mom."

Steph hugged her Dad tightly, feeling a mix of emotions. Romeo and Jake exchanged glances, unsure what to make of it all. Jesse could only stare into the distance.

"What's he look like?" Jake asked in a monotone. "The kid...Raiden."

Jon looked at Jake with a small smile.

"He looks just like Lema," he replied, taking out his phone and scrolling to several photos of Raiden. He turned the phone to show his kids. "Hair...eyes...everything. A nice mix of personality from both David and the mother. He'll be seven in December. He's a very playful kid, always up for an adventure. But he's also very protective of Richie and I. He has a strong sense of family but he's been through hell and has mental health issues because of that."

"Does he know about us?" Romeo asked.

Jon nodded and inhaled sharply. "He does...and asks if he'd ever meet you all. We want him to know he has a family who loves him. And we want you all to meet him but I'm not gonna force it."

Steph looked at her Dad with a mixture of love and concern. "Yeah, Dad. I'll meet him. I can't speak for them," she gestured a hand to her brothers. "But if this will make you and Mom happier, we're behind you both."

"I'm with Steph," Jake said, cementing his spot firmly with his Dad.

Jesse nodded toward his sister and Jake. "I'm with them. Just...I'll meet him in my own time."

"Thank you, guys. That means a lot to me." He turned to Romeo and met his dark eyes. "Romy, I know this isn't easy for you. But I just ask you to keep an open mind. Raiden and Richie are family, no matter what. And they're going to be a big part of my life...our lives, from now on."

Romeo laughed bitterly and stood up from his spot on the floor. "Fuck off and fuck you for doing this to Mom!" He stormed from the room, a distant slamming of a door echoing through the mansion.

"Don't worry about him," Jesse reassured Jon, clapping him on the shoulder. "He's been protective of Mom lately."

"Jonny! Hey...Jonny where are you?!" Matt's voice called from the foyer.

"I'm in here," he yelled back.

Matt poked his head into the den, holding his phone up. "She's at the Soul Kitchen."

*~*~*

Jon, setting Matt the task of starting the packing process, pulled his car into the parking lot behind Soul Kitchen and killed the engine. He would have rathered this discussion happen at home but he didn't want to waste any more time living a lie.

"C'mon, asshole," he muttered to himself. "Don't be a chickenshit coward." Wrenching the key from the ignition, Jon pushed open the door and plastered on his press smile, ready to face the barrage of greetings, requests for photos and autographs.

Inside the restaurant, it was packed, not a seat empty, which was a testament to Dorothea's hard work.

Many he recognized as returning guests and he stopped to shake their hands, thanking one for his military service. Others were the rabid fans. Faces he would see in the front row of every concert. Every fucking concert. Maybe he should start doing what Billy Joel does, and not sell the front row and give the regular fans a chance.

Those rushed to him, overwhelmingly so, to get photos and autographs. He graced their requests one by one, eyes locking on Dorothea at the back of the cafe. She was talking animatedly to one of the volunteers and her smile was as bright as ever. Until she saw him.

The brightness faded and a shadow crossed her eyes. Jon smiled at the fan and said, "If you'll excuse me, I need to speak with Dorothea." The female fans melted at his perfect smile and slinked back over to their tables. Murmurs of how she's a lucky lady, how wonderful that they were still married and such, reached his ears as the distance between them grew.

He could just make out Dorothea rolling her eyes as she turned for the kitchen. "Christ, I can't get one minute of peace and quiet," she mumbled low enough for Jon to hear when he got closer. "You have that pile of rocks you call your brother, track me down again?"

"We need to talk," he hissed, gripping her elbow and steering her toward the back storage room. "And I'd rather not do it in the middle of everyone here."

"Always a need with you," Dorothea laughed in a sing-song voice. "Need to talk, need to this, need to that...I'm done with your needs."

"Fine!" Jon spat. He opened the door and handed his wife inside before following and closing it firmly behind him.

Dorothea leaned back on the desk and crossed her legs and arms. "So how was California? Settled in nicely with your boyfriend?!" The word dripped with ice and sarcasm as she looked coldly at him.

"How long have you known?"

"A while," she replies shortly. "You two playing house now?"

"He loves me...and I love him."

"Same old Jon. You get to tell our children and--."

"I just came from the house," Jon said in a hoarse whisper. "They were understanding except for Romeo. Better than I could have asked for."

"Hmmph," his wife grunted. "It's more than you deserve, in my opinion. You've always favoured the others over Romeo."

Jon rolled his eyes up to the heavens and chuckled bitterly. "And I'm sure you know why. I wanted to come and tell you all in person rather than over the phone."

"Why?!" Dorothea spat at him, springing from the chair in frustration. "So that you could see the hurt in your children's faces? Or to rub it in mine? I have been there the whole fucking time, Jon! Through your affairs, through the groupies, raising our children while you gallivanted all over the world with him!" She started pacing back and forth in the small room. "I gave birth to those children, I nursed them through illnesses, broken bones and broken hearts. Me, Jon...," Dot stabbed her finger into her chest. "And where were you? Fucking Sambora every night backstage after the shows?"

"Yeah...and that's the pot calling the kettle black!"

"The fuck did you just say to me?!"

"Why? So you can act shocked, Dot?" Jon replied, shaking his head in disbelief at her. "How many times has it been for you, Dot? We both know that you are not exactly innocent of having affairs either. You've been backing away from me for a long time now. So...is it still the guy from the dojo, like last time? Or someone different that has taken pity on you?"

Fury stole briefly over her face before Dorothea clucked her tongue and pulled a chair over. "So be a man and fucking tell me. Tell me what you fucking want."

Jon looked at the woman he once loved, and he had loved her, but that had waned over the years and had paled significantly in comparison to the recent light of Richie's love.

He licked his lips and said, "I want a divorce."

Dorothea leant forward, propping her elbows on the desk and looked at him, resting her chin on her hands. "You want a divorce? After all these years?" she deadpanned.

Jon studied her, chewing on his thumbnail as he was wont to do when he was stressed or thoughtful. She didn't look shocked, defeated or sad. "It's been a long time, Dot. And it has finally hit me that I'm not in love with you anymore. I still love you, but it's different. And you deserve someone who loves you completely."

Dorothea stared at him, unblinking. "And what about Richie? Does he love you enough for you to lose a decades-long marriage?"

Jon took a deep breath, feeling the tense atmosphere in the room. "Yes, he does. And I know that this will hurt you and the kids, but it's something that I have to do for myself. I can't live a lie anymore."

Dorothea looked...bored. "What's taken you so long?"

"I know how difficult this has been for you too. But I can't keep pretending that I'm happy in our marriage. And neither can you."

She stood up and walked toward him, her right hand catching the side of his face with a resounding slap. "Go fuck yourself," she hissed, her tone low and monotone. Murderous. "Pack your shit and get the fuck out of MY house."

Jon swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling the sting of her words. "I'm sorry, Dot. But I have to do what's best for me."

She stepped back, her eyes hard and cold. "Fine. But I'm warning you, Jon. I will do everything in my power to make this as difficult, painful and expensive for you as possible."

"I know, Dot. And I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't even begin to describe you." She gave him one last look before turning and leaving the room, her footsteps echoing down the hallway. "Get him out of my kitchen!"

Jon stood there, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. He knew that this was coming, but it still felt like a punch to the gut. He took a deep breath and made his way out of the storage room, his eyes staring at the floor as he rushed from the restaurant via the back entrance to avoid any fans. He threw himself back into his car and turned the engine over before gunning it out of the carpark and onto the street.

Hitting the parkway at a smooth 85mph, Jon hit Richie's call photo and listened to the phone dial. "Hey, baby," Richie's voice came through the speaker, warm and reassuring. "How's the trip?"

Jon took a deep breath, feeling the rush of emotions as he tried to find the right words to explain. "It's over," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I told Dorothea that I want a divorce."

"Oh, Jon. Baby, I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Just talk to me," Jon's voice held the faintest hint of a plea. "Just please talk to me." He shook his head, feeling the tears threatening to spill over.

Richie's voice was soft and comforting as he replied, "Of course, baby. I'm here for you." There was a slight pause as though Richie was thinking of something neutral to talk about. "You...uh...you remember that boy Raiden said was bullying him? I spoke to the teacher and the Principal today and made a complaint. It's not the first time they've received complaints apparently. Anyway, they're going to investigate further."

"Little asshole has it coming," Jon replied thickly, forcing himself to focus on Richie's voice. "How's Raiden?"

"Content. Finally, he had a good night's sleep. The doctor changed one of the minor medications," Richie said, a smile in his voice. "Where're you headed now?"

Jon took a deep breath, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease slightly. "Matt's been my packing fiend. So I'm gonna go help him finish and...I guess head to the Hampton house. I can't stay in Red Bank. Romeo isn't taking it well. So I'm gonna focus on the kids this week...get in touch with the lawyers."

"If you need anything, let me know. Raiden and I could come out for the weekend and help with packing," Richie said.

"Is that Papa J?!" A smaller voice came across the phone. "Papa J?! Are you there?"

Jon smiled and pulled up to the big house. He stared up at it and said, "Hey there, buddy!"

"I can't wait to tell you about what happened at school!" Jon oohed and ahhed as the little boy rambled on about goings on at school. "Irina wouldn't stop chasing me and trying to kiss me! Yuck!"

"Yeah, little man...girls are yuck...except Irina," Jon chuckled.

"Yes, except for her...but even then she gets all...googly eyed," Raiden complained.

Jon listened to Richie's laughter in the background. "Hey tell ya what...I got a few things to take care of but I'll call you two when I get to the Hamptons house, okay?"

"Okay, Papa J! I love you," Raiden said.

"I love you too!" Richie called out.

Jon ended up finding Matt where he'd left him, packing in the Master suite. But Steph and Jesse had joined to help. He stopped short upon seeing his kids and sighed. "You two don't have to do this."

"C'mon, Dad," Jesse chuckled. "Uncle Matt is horrible at packing. He needed the help."

"How'd it go with Mom?" Steph asked.

Jon took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. "Not well but I didn't expect it any other way. She wasn't happy." He rubbed his sore cheek, still feeling the sting of Dot's hand.

Steph gave her father a sympathetic look. "I know how much this hurts but you know how Mom is. She's loyal to a fault."

"Oh, I know. But it's for the best."

He joined in the packing and soon his bags were packed in his SUV. The kids, save for Romeo, surrounded him with hugs. Promises made that this week would be for them. His focus would be solely on the kids.

As he drove away from the house, Jon felt the heaviness lift from his shoulders. He knew that this was the right decision for him, but it still hurt. His final destination tonight was the Hamptons by the end of the week, his mind already focused on the coming days.

The three-hour trek was too much to think about. Jon turned up the music and rolled down his window, singing along to classic oldies. He dialed one of the local luxury hotels and booked a room for the week, with confirmation of check-in tonight.

He swung off the parkway at exit 102 and made his way to the Ocean Club Hotel in the Asbury Park district. Fresh sea air...that's what he needed. And wine. Mostly wine.

Pulling into the parking lot, Jon took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. The breeze was salty and invigorating, and he felt the tension in his shoulders ease slightly. He made his way to the check-in desk, where an older couple was checking in at the same time.

The man had salt and pepper hair, and the woman had short blonde hair and round glasses. Jon couldn't help but notice the soft way they touched, and the way their eyes lingered on each other. He caught the woman's eye and smiled, feeling a warmth spread through his chest.

The couple returned the smile, their eyes filled with warmth and affection. Jon couldn't help but wonder what their story was. Maybe they'd been together for decades, or maybe they'd only recently found each other. Either way, they were clearly in love.

All he wanted was to have someone look at him that way again. And he'd found that in Richie.

He barely listened to a word the clerk was saying, passed over his credit card and ID and snatched up the room key. "Sorry...what was that?"

"I said if you want breakfast delivered, make sure to leave the tag on your door handle," the clerk said sweetly and handed over the tag.

"Thanks," he said with a smile and rolled his luggage into the elevator. Finally, it was quiet with only the mechanics of the elevator to invade his thoughts. What he wouldn't give to be back in California.

The room was comfortable and cozy, with a small balcony overlooking the ocean. Jon took a deep breath, feeling the fresh sea air fill his lungs. He stepped out onto the balcony, his eyes scanning the bustling boardwalk below.

The sounds of laughter and music filled the air, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia. It had been a long time since he'd felt this way. He leaned against the railing, letting the wind flow through his hair.

He poured himself a glass of wine and took a seat, looking out at the endless ocean. It was beautiful, wild and untamed. The waves crashed against the shore, sending sprays of water into the air. He felt a longing for something he couldn't quite put into words.