His part in brokering the deal between Osborn and Clay done, Jax rolls down the hall to see Tara. They sit together in the lounge, mired in yet another of their frequent and depressing sullen silences, until Jax finally speaks up: "Sheriffs raided the clubhouse, looking for illegal scrips." Tara breathes, "Oh my God, how did they know?" Jax snaps, "You tell me! You told me we could trust that doctor." Tara is sure the doctor didn't say anything, while Jax rebuts, "Well, someone did." He sighs, leans forward and says, "I get caught, I can do the years. But you ... narc raps are real time. Your medical career would be over. Do you get that?" Tara is still trying to figure out what the hell Jax is so upset over, and protests, "You asked me for help. This is not my fault." Jax is all too aware of that. He's furious, but not with her. Perhaps a little with Clay, but mostly with himself -- for feeling as if his club keeps putting the people he loves in danger, for feeling as if he's failed to protect his family, for pushing Tara into doing the deal despite his misgivings, for thinking he could somehow have both the legit girlfriend and the lawless biker career.
So Jax tells Tara, "I'm done." He stands up, kisses her and walks out, leaving her wondering what in the hamfat just happened.
And now, the finishing montage. We see Clay and Gemma cuddled together on her hospital bed, watching The King and I together. (Mr. sobell loves that movie. Like, looooooooves that movie. And gets really upset whenever I sit down to watch it with him and start making fun of Deborah Kerr's delivery of "Oh, your majesty!" So I've learned to heroically suppress my chatter. Truly, that movie is a testament to what spouses will do to make one another happy.) Anyway, it is very humorous that the same man who dismisses one member's old lady with "She's a chick" will, at the end of the day, show how Gemma is the sun around which his world revolves.
The montage continues. We see that Opie and Lyla are passed out all over each other. Then we see Tyler cuddled up next to Stahl; Stahl does not have her arm wrapped around Tyler, but is awake and staring up at the ceiling. Yeah, she's totally gambling with her girlfriend's career to save her own. I'm calling it now. Tara is lying alone in a double bed, blinking back tears as she stares at the ceiling, one hand on her belly where her uterus is already expanding.
And then, we see Jax. More precisely, we see a lot of Jax, as we get the full rear view of the man pumping away at Ima in his clubhouse bedroom. Well, Horace's Ars Poetica did say if you drop a porn starlet in act one, she'll be banging a biker by act three. And really, who are we to argue with Rome's leading lyric poet?