"Did you know?"
Her brows knit together slightly.
"Know what?"
My eyes don’t leave her face.
"About Claire."
Margaret doesn’t answer right away and that silence does sothing unpleasant to my stomach.
I keep watching her just watching.... I try again my voice cos again, a little steadier this ti.
"Did you know she and Zane..."
The words get stuck in my throat for a second.
God, I hate even saying it out loud.
"...that she was his girlfriend? Or whatever thing they had"
Margaret exhales slowly, tht reaction alone tells more than any words could. A bitter feeling creeps into my chest but I push past it because that wasn’t the part that hurt the most.
My gaze stays locked on her.
"Did you know Zane asked her to be my friend?"
"Did you know... she had sothing going on with him?"
"I know Claire," she says slowly.
"She used to co here often."
That part makes my stomach turn...used to co here, tp this house, to his space.
Margaret continues, her voice still calm.
"But I don’t know anything about... their relationship."
She pauses slightly before saying the last word. Careful with it, like she doesn’t want to say the wrong thing and make this worse for .
I just stare at her... trying to read between the lines, trying to figure out if there’s sothing she’s not saying but there’s nothing there... just honesty.
And that sohow makes everything hurt more, because it ans this whole thing existed... quietly around , without ever knowing.
I let out a small breath that shakes halfway through.
"Okay."
That’s all I say.... Just okay.....: like that one word can sohow hold everything I’m feeling right now. It doesn’t, nor even close.
My vision starts to blur again and ar first I try to blink it away.
I press my lips together and my head back slightly... anything to stop it but it doesn’t work.
The tears co anyway.....: slowyl at first, then they beco heavier. Mt chest tightens again, the sa way it did earlier, like sothing is sitting on it and pressing down.
I turn my face away from Margaret, I don’t want her to see this again. In this short space of ti I’m I’m tired of crying, tired of feeling like I can’t hold myself together but the tears don’t care about that.....they keep falling, quitelt at first, then my breathing starts to hitch and I know I’ve lost it again.
Margaret doesn’t say anything this ti, she just moves the mattress dipping slightly as she sits beside , then her arms co around slowly like she’s giving ti to pull away if I want to.
I don’t and the mont she touches , sothing in just... gives. I lean into her without thinking. My face pressing against her shoulder and the crying cos harder now. Not quiet anymore.
My fingers clutch weakly at her clothes, I don’t even know what I’m crying for exactly anymore.
Everything maybe?
Claire....:: Zane and all the lies.
The years I thought were real, the way my life suddenly feels like it has cracks running through it.
Margaret’s hand moves up to my hair and she smooths it gently over and over again.
"It’s okay," she murmurs softly.
"It’s okay, child..."
Her voice is calm and steady as i shake my head against her shoulder.
Because it doesn’t feel okay, nothing about this feels okay but I don’t say that. I don’t have the energy to argue it, so I just cry and she holds , she doesn’t rush or try to make stop.
She just stays there, letting get it out. Little by little, the crying starts to wear out.
My breaths slow a s the tight feeling in my chest loosens slightly and my grip on her clothes weakens.
The room feels softer sohow and quieter
Suddenly my eyes feel heavy.... Too heavy.
I don’t even notice when my head shifts more comfortably against her shoulder, when her hand slows in my hair or when my breathing evens out completely.
Sleep creeps in quietly with warning and no fight left in to push it away before I even realize it...:::. I’m gone into deep sleep.
————-
A few days have gone by since the whole ss with Claire and j haven’t really stepped out of this room much.
It’s like I’ve carved out a small space for myself here and decided I’m not letting anything from the rest of the house touch it. Mots of my ti is spent on my bed with my phone in hand, scrolling through social dia.
Or I read... not really because I’m interested in whatever book I pick up, but because it gives my mind sothing else to focus on. Sothing that isn’t... well everything else.
The room ha has started to feel familiar again and Safe, in a way. Like before I started sleeping in his bed, before I started thinking I understood him even a little. Now it just feels like I don’t know anything at all.
I’ve only seen him once in four days.
And honestly? I’m glad.
That one ri in the hallway was enough....
I had just co out od the training room when I turned the corner and almost ran straight into him.
He stopped.
I stopped and for a second we just stood there looking at each other.
His eyes moved over my face like he was trying to figure sothing out...likr he was trying to read m.
I didn’t give him anything... not a word, not a even a reaction. I just walked past him like he wasn’t even there. My shoulder brushed his arm slightly as I passed.
I didn’t apologize, neither did I slow down, I didn’t even look back.
And he didn’t stop .....didn’t try to explain anything.
That was four days ago. And since then, nothing. Which is exactly how I want it.
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