OUT OF THE RED ↝ dave grohl

forty-three.

"Your mom's down there," she reminded him. "I don't want her to hear any of this."

"Come on, then." Dave pulled her towards his bedroom door, but Reagan dug the heels of her feet into the carpeted floor. He turned to look back at her, exasperated.

"Dave," Reagan said, shaking her head dejectedly. It was all too much. She was scared to hear him say the words out loud. Once he told her himself that he was moving, then it would be real. She wouldn't be able to pretend any longer that it was all a misunderstanding.

"Please listen to me," he begged, keeping his voice lowered. He took her face in his hands. "We can't just go to bed and pretend that it didn't happen. I feel like shit knowing you had to find out this way. I hate hurting you."

Not wanting to fall to pieces in open view, Reagan went limp and let Dave take her hand again to lead her into his bedroom. She stood stiffly by the door as he shut it closed, making little noise. She tried to turn herself into a statue, cold and unfeeling with her arms glued to her sides. Only then would she be able to mask the hurt still stirring inside of her.

"Can I explain?" Dave asked softly. She felt his hands touch her waist hesitantly.

"Okay." Reagan spoke through her teeth. She began to massage the bridge of her nose, seeing spots of light dance behind her closed eyelids. It was difficult being torn in two different directions. On one hand, she wanted to let the shock of what had happened pass, just so she could stop harping on it to herself. That would have been the brave thing to do. But it was too hard to ignore how badly she'd been wounded.

"I found an apartment in Seattle before we flew out here," Dave told her calmly. "I've known for awhile that I wanted to leave Olympia."

Reagan almost spit the words "without me" out, but she bit down on her tongue and allowed Dave to speak. It would be too much of an effort to fight with him. And besides, the little voice inside her head, the one that told her it was wiser to act as if she didn't care at all, was whispering to her. It had been the same voice that had turned her callous over the years.

"I was going to tell you. I swear I was. But then we agreed to visit my mom and I just knew I couldn't break that news to you before we left. I didn't know how you'd handle it."

"You're a grown man. I can't stop from you going where you want," Reagan said. She forced herself to swallow, her throat dry as bone.

"I know I shouldn't have hidden it from you," Dave whispered. He moved into her ring of personal space, tucking a piece of her hair back. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"I'll live," Reagan managed. She crossed her arms and cast her eyes downward, not wanting Dave to look within them and detect the weight of her lie.

"You're still mad," Dave said. He sounded defeated.

"Wouldn't you be a little upset if I told you out of the blue that I was moving cities?"

Dave paused to consider this alternative. His face fell as he realized what Reagan was getting at and for a moment, her pain became his own.

"You're right. I would be upset. I'd be more than upset, actually. I'd be pissed."

"So it's settled then," Reagan said briskly. "We're both pissed. I'm going to bed now."

"Stop running from me," Dave demanded, clutching her before she could dart out of the room. "Damn it Reagan, I'm not ending it like this."

"Ending what? Our relationship?" Reagan said, the words coming out in a broken whisper as Dave held her in his arms. That was the one ultimatum she had feared most.