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FictionWomen's Fiction
Home›Fiction›You Can’t Always Get What You Want

You Can’t Always Get What You Want

By Jaclyn Weber-Hill
November 17, 2025
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A street lined with cars in NYC
Vinson Tran / Pixabay
This entry is part 11 of 11 in the series Lacey Chronicles

Lacey Chronicles

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Where Do We Go from Here?

April 7, 2025
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Soul-Searching in Manhattan

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Out Tonight

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Start of Something New

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Let Love In

September 22, 2025
A street lined with cars in NYC
Vinson Tran / Pixabay

You Can’t Always Get What You Want

November 17, 2025
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The summer sun gave way to the falling leaves, marking the onset of fall. For once, Lacey found herself blanketed in the comfort of a routine. Her guard fell with each passing month. Syler’s intentions remained steadfast, and he proved himself daily. His kind personality helped her heal her heart after the traumatic first months in a different city. He never grew impatient with her. When she didn’t feel like talking, he’d show up the next day hoping for a fresh start and with an open ear if she needed. It was a relief for Lacey to be cared for without tension.

Every night was the same. She’d work at the bar; he’d pick her up after. They walked to her house or his and slept in each other’s arms. On his days off, they’d sleep late and stay in bed until the afternoon, only getting up to try different restaurants for lunch.  Being with Syler felt natural. He became the calm amid her chaos.

“I have to leave, babe,” Syler whispered, leaning over to kiss Lacey’s cheek and slide her out from under his arm. He felt bad waking her, but knew she’d be mad if they couldn’t kiss goodbye. The commute to Queens could be long and he’d be late if he didn’t go soon.

“Do you have to?” Lacey whined as she wrapped her body around him. She clung like a koala bear would a eucalyptus branch. His embrace slowed things for her; her heartbeat, her racing mind, and time passing.

He smiled and pressed his lips to her temple. “Yes, I do. But I’ll pick you up as always,” he promised. “Plus, I’m off tomorrow, so it’s exploring day,” he reminded her, wiggling his arm out from beneath her.

Lacey groaned as he moved from the bed, twisting her body so she could sit up and watch him get ready for work. “We should run away and join the circus,” she joked with a laugh. Her face still showed signs of fatigue, but she was happy to be up, if only for a little while, to spend more time with him.

“Oh, my lion tamer degree is in the mail,” he teased. He stripped off his pajama shirt and tossed it at her with a playful smile.

She laughed, removing the shirt from her face. “Can’t blame a girl for trying,” she shrugged. When he finished his morning routine, Syler leaned down for a second lingering kiss which caused Lacey to blush.

“Don’t rush out of here. Sleep in if you need to,” he said before he closed the door. Syler wanted to make sure she understood his home was as much hers as it was his.

“Thank you,” she replied in a quiet voice. With that, he was out the door.

Even in his absence, Syler’s apartment was a second home. His presence lingered in every corner, a quiet warmth that felt like a hug when he wasn’t there. With this man, Lacey found a safe space to land whenever the world seemed unsteady. It was no longer her alone versus the big surroundings of a bustling city. She had Syler now to discover the joys of New York together.

After he left, the dancer didn’t stay much longer post-nap. She returned home to prepare for her shift and tidy up the mess from the evening before. Lacey understood how lucky she was to have a condo in the center of the Big Apple. But the loneliness often clouded gratitude. She spent a lot of time at Syler’s place; it was closer to the her job, and he was there.

Her day went fast. Another bar shift, another evening. Lacey adapted to nights since moving to Manhattan. Every day appeared more ordinary. She was unsure about the feeling but also grateful to be present.

It was the usual crowd for a weeknight, and she remembered their likes and dislikes, which made for a peaceful rhythm. If she kept their drinks flowing, her tips came easily.

When she glanced at the clock, she was surprised to find just an hour remained before closing. Taking her phone out from under the table, she wrote Syler a quick text message. “Almost done here. Be there soon xoxo.” She put her device away, then went to count the drawer.

Once she finished her closing tasks, Lacey was eager to be with Syler. She said goodnight to everybody, gathered her things, and left. Outside she saw someone unexpected: her ex-girlfriend Brooke, visibly emotional.

“Can we please talk?” she pleaded.

Lacey stared in shock at the woman who had broken her heart. After a moment, rage replaced the surprise, but she remained calm, not wanting to create a scene at work.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, moving away. She didn’t want this conversation, much less in public.

“I’m pregnant and tired, and I miss you. Reuben wasn’t the best choice. He’s violent, possessive, and he was a mistake,” Brooke yelled.

Lacey stopped, her back to Brooke. A sob caught in her throat – she was sad, angry, and overwhelmed.

She turned to face the brunette. “We’re not doing this here. Come with me.” Her vagueness was unintentional, but emotions took hold. Brooke caught up, and gently wrapped a hand around Lacey’s forearm. Together they headed to the condo. The calm ended without warning. Lacey knew she needed to hear Brooke out before she attempted to send her off again.

Her phone buzzed, distracting her from the present between them. Seeing Syler’s name flash across the screen, she canceled the call. She couldn’t bring herself to explain or have him hear about Brooke’s situation. They strode in silence. Brooke only let go of Lacey once they arrived at their destination.

Once inside, Lacey leaned against the counter. “Start from the beginning,” she said. Her tone was curt but curious. She wouldn’t abandon the woman she once cared about. If she could help, she would.


Editor: Lucy Cafiero

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Lacey Chronicles

Let Love In
Tagsserial fictionlgbtq+relationships
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Jaclyn Weber-Hill

Jaclyn Weber-Hill, born and raised in Queens, NY, has been writing since first grade. Jaclyn considers her writing her greatest form of self-expression. She writes with the hope that in sharing her lived experience, she can help someone feel less alone. Since 2023, Jaclyn has been writing her blog on Medium.com. In May 2024, she was "boosted" on the site where her story reached over 500 people and counting. Jaclyn is happily married to her wife Frances, together they share a 6-year-old Pembroke Welsh Corgi named Penelope.

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    Beautiful, Ivor!

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    Thank you for your gracious words, Violet 😍📖🌏

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    So aptly 'you' Ivor! I love it!

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    Many thanks for visiting my poem here at Coffee House Writers Magazine, and thank you for ...

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