Refound Love (YTSTMB sequel)

Part twenty-nine

Dan P.O.V.

The morning couldn't come fast enough. After the phone call with Phil I jumped into action, clearing the mess in the lounge and cleaned the kitchen, scrubbing it within an inch of its life. I hoovered and cleaned the entire apartment, not just because it was disgusting, but I needed to burn off the ecstatic energy and keep myself busy so I wouldn't overthink and worry about when Phil came home the next morning.

When it was all done I collapsed into bed, my body was exhausted but mind still active and racing, even though I had hoped being tired would shut it off. I practised what I would say to him when he came home, if I even spoke at all. I tried to come up with something reasonable to say, something that sounded genuine when I told him how sorry I was and how much I loved him so much it hurt.

I had messed up so bad that when I answered the phone to him yesterday, I was expecting him to tell me that he was leaving me and he'd be back soon to pick up his stuff, not that he wanted to come home. Even if when he came back and didn't want to speak to me ever again, at least he would be here, and least he would be safe.

I thought of endless possibilities for what could happen in the morning, but whatever happened, I vowed to myself that I would be grateful, because I would be seeing him again and he'd be here with me, even if his door was locked and I was in another room alone. Despite thinking of thousands situations for the morning, I could barely conquer something up to say to him apart from one thing.

I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.

Maybe that's all I could say.

-

I woke up to the sound of a turning in the keyhole and I jolted up and ran out the room, cursing under my breath since I had slept through my alarms and looked a state. I stopped by the mirror for a second to fix my hair by trying to sort out the tangles with my fingers but didn't particularly win the battle and gave up, leaving it sticking up at angles. 

I rushed to the hall just as Phil was coming through. He looked up and down at me and raised an eyebrow a little and I blushed, knowing that it must've looked like I didn’t seem bothered about him being back.

"Um, my alarms didn't go off," I said, smiling sheepishly after and he just nodded stiffly and didn't return it. He looked dreadful, he was still the sickly grey colour he was when I last saw him apart from his eyes that were bloodshot and lined with circles. He looked away and froze when he saw the spot where he had cried and screamed at me and admitted to his plans to propose. "Let me take those for you," I offered, stepping forward towards him and taking his bags from him because the eerie silence was making me anxious.

"Yeah," his voice was dry. "I'll put the kettle on, we need to talk."

Now it was my turn to nod and I left him to put his bags in his room, my stomach doing things that made me feel sick and the palms of my hands sweat.

I went to the kitchen to see him being supported by the counter and staring down at it. I decided to leave him for the moment and went into the lounge, knowing it must've been hard for him to back here, when remembering the last time he was didn't bring back good memories. I thought the sofa was a bit too casual for this sort of talk, so I sat at the table observing the marks on them as I waited for Phil.

He came in a minute later and sat down opposite, placing a mug in front of me. I noticed though, that after he did, he kept his hands around his mug instead of reaching out and holding onto one of mine like I hoped he would, but he probably didn't want to and I didn't deserve it.

He took a long sip of his drink and took a moment to look at me with his tired eyes and then back down to his mug and avoided my gaze while he spoke.