Our love couldn't go wrong

Chapter Seventeen :

Sorry for the late update. I started uni a month ago and it's been hard to try and find a new routine - I promise to be more active. Tw for the usual stuff

"What am I going to do about work?" Courtney asks worriedly, later on in the evening once they've sat down to dinner.

Kari and Damien left roughly an hour ago and, since then, he's been anticipating the inevitable question. Truthfully, he hoped he'd have more time to figure out the answer, himself. Clearly not.

He pauses, taking a moment to collect his thoughts.

Work means everything to her, he muses - it's her safe place, the one space that she can let go and be herself - and he doesn't want her to lose that, but it's not that simple. Jason knows where they work. Hell, he's managed to get into the office before (albeit with the use of Courtney's ID card); it would concern him more if she wasn't worried about the situation. He just wishes that he knew what to do, that he could help her more. God, why does this whole thing have to be so hard for her?

"I...I don't know, Court," Sighing, he continues, "Maybe we should give Ian a call, ask him what he thinks is best?" Hope trickles into his voice, but he makes no effort to mask it. He silently wishes it'll make her more inclined to agree upon hearing it. Besides, it'll probably be best if Ian knows what's going on. He's not just their boss but their friend, too; anyone would move mountains for them, it's Ian.

Shayne knows exactly what lengths the other man would go to to keep them all safe, but Ian would go even further for Court. Especially for her. Their boss has a soft spot for her, and he can't exactly blame him for that.

Their relationship with her is just...vastly different.

"I just -" She starts, swallowing thickly as she pushes her ramen around her bowl "- I don't want anyone to be upset that I didn't do or say anything. And, like, I know you're gonna say how much you all care about me and how you're not mad or whatever, but you should be. This is all my fault. I should've known better, I should've told someone, or left - I never should've stayed. I was so stupid and I-I know that...he just...he made me feel so loved, so important. And I'm not saying that you lot don't, but it was different, he was different. I wanted him to be the one, you know?"

Her lip trembles slightly as she looks away from him, eyes watery and expression vulnerable, and all he can think about is that she looks so young. He hates how much she's blaming herself for this. He hates how quick she is to jump to conclusions that seem logical and right to her, but are so completely ridiculous to everyone else.

He hates how used she is to getting hurt.

"I know. We're not upset, Courtney, and we shouldn't be, either. You're probably so confused and hurt right now, but it's not your fault - the only people who think that are you, and the person who's actually at fault for this. It'll take time for you to believe that, yourself." She nods quickly, before hanging her head. It's clear to him that she doesn't believe him. But that's okay, he didn't expect anything else.

After a moment, he decides to continue, bringing an end to the lingering awkward silence. Neither of them are good with it, anyway. "How about we just text Ian after dinner, ask for tomorrow off so we can figure this all out? I know Damien won't tell anyone at work unless you gave him explicit permission to do so, so it'll all stay private. It's your choice," He offers.

There's another beat of quietness, filled only with the light clinking of Courtney's spoon against the ceramic bowl from where it shakes slightly in her less dominant hand. "What if Jason shows up at work and asks where I am? He's gonna be so mad, he-he...I don't want anybody to get hurt."

She finally meets his eyes and it takes everything within him not to break when he sees the look on her face.

That's the thing about Courtney - she's always been such an open book to him. Her pages are a little worn and creased, and her spine may be cracked in places, but she's filled with so much love and care within. It just pains him that it never seems to be directed at herself.

"We will do everything we can to protect you. I'm telling you, nobody's going to get hurt."

"Promise?" Her voice is barely above a whisper but he hears her loud and clear, lifting his hand to meet hers and wrapping his pinky finger around the one she's extended out to him.

"Promise."

————————————

When Shayne messaged him Sunday night requesting Monday off for Courtney, Ian wasn't too surprised. There'd been some god-awful bug going around the office and he himself had only just started to get over his chesty cough and constant nausea; it was only a matter of time until Courtney caught it, considering their weaker immune system as of recently. He wasn't even too surprised that Shayne requested the day off, too. It wouldn't be the first time that the other man had taken time off to look after their friend when she was sick. He found it rather sweet, in fact, that he was keeping an eye on her. God knows she needs it.

However, he started to get the feeling that something was off on Monday morning, when Damien came into the office looking like a kicked puppy.

He'd originally put it down to a bad weekend - or maybe Damien was starting to come down sick, too, even - it didn't seem too unordinary; everyone of them has their off days. Besides, the whole office seemed to have that low energy vibe to it. It was just another manic Monday (pun fully, and unashamedly, intended).

It was towards the end of the work day that he'd gotten a call from Shayne.

Perhaps, in hindsight, he should've seen it coming. Perhaps he could've done more to figure out what was going on in his employees' and coworkers' lives - after all, they were his friends, too. He was foolish to pretend as though nothing had ever happened just because there's been a couple weeks of calm.

There's that sense of guilt stewing in his stomach, bubbling up the more he thinks about it. Truthfully, he hasn't been able to stop thinking about it, since the phone call yesterday.

After all, Courtney was being abused and he didn't know.

Or maybe he did. That's the worst part of this all (well, not exactly, but he knows what he means by it), knowing that maybe deep down, he knew all along. Knowing that maybe he could've done something, if only he had dug a little deeper and tried a little harder.

He repeats that mantra over and over to himself; it had played like a broken record all night as he lay wide awake in his bed. And he continues to repeat that mantra over and over to himself right up until Courtney and Shayne show up to work, thirty minutes before anyone else typically shows.

His first thought is nothing - just the state of pure and utter shock as he looks at Courtney and the array of dark bruises that seem to be everywhere. Shayne had been honest with him, he had been told it was bad, but he never would've thought it was going to be this bad. His guilt starts to simmer up again, raging deep within him. And this rage isn't just directed at himself, but at the person who did this to his friend, his pseudo sister.

Courtney is the epitome of light and joy, and it pains him to think of someone trying to destroy that.

It pains him even more to see just how close they probably were.

There's an emptiness in both of their eyes that makes him feel unsettled and he finds himself hesitating, before ushering them into his office. Nobody else is here except for them, but his office is a safe space and he hopes the sense of privacy might help them all. Courtney is the first to take a seat, albeit the furthest from him in the corner, and he watches her eyes dart around the room momentarily before she seemingly settles slightly, shoulders dropping and fists unclenching. In that moment, all he wants to do is hug her.

"So..." He starts, voice cracking slightly. He coughs in a vain attempt to cover up his nerves, "Where do we want to start?"